Broken Wands
by kerryblaze
Summary: AU! A future cookie has been added! This story contains SLASH Harry and Ron! The war is over. Harry and Ron have settled into their life together when they decide to get involved with one of Hermione's new causes. Same sex marriage!
1. The Proposal

**Part One – _The Proposal_**

Hermione Granger was talking excitedly as she paced the floor of Harry and Ron's living room, her hands waving frantically in the air. She had discovered a new cause to champion and there was no stopping her tirade.

Ron was on the floor by the fireplace, polishing his broom and not even bothering to pretend she had his full attention. Harry sat on the couch, becoming increasingly annoyed that she was so insistent on their involvement in her cause.

"It's not as easy as you make it sound," argued Harry. "It's been this way for centuries. You can't change it overnight!"

"We need to get people to see that we're not in the dark ages anymore!" Hermione exclaimed. "We're on the edge of the 21st century! Gay couples should be allowed to marry."

"I agree, but –"

"Good. Then you can help the cause! Speak out about how you feel. People will listen to you," she said passionately.

"No, Hermione!" Harry said firmly. "You know how I feel about keeping my personal life private."

"Well, then, you should have thought of that before you and lover-boy -" she gestured at Ron "- couldn't keep your hands off each other long enough to get through our _Order of Merlin_ induction celebration."

"It's not as if we shagged in front of the entire crowd," Ron pointed out irritably.

"Oh, no!" she shrieked. "That would've been much more elegant! Instead, you decided to go into a cloakroom, and then used a basic spell to lock the door, making it tremendously easy for Rita Skeeter to find you and take your picture!"

She paused, exhaled in exasperation while rolling her eyes. "Did you think you weren't being watched? Honestly, I don't know what goes through your heads sometimes."

Harry tried to stifle his laugh (he really did), but one glance at the wicked grin on Ron's face, and his laughter burst out of him.

Clutching his stomach, Harry sputtered, "S-s-sorry."

Ron was laughing so hard he snorted a few times.

Hermione glowered at Harry and then Ron, her arms firmly folded across her chest. "It's funny, now? I don't remember seeing either of you laughing when you were displayed half-naked on the front of the _Prophet_!"

Her statement immediately sobered both men up. It had been less than two weeks since they were outed and the embarrassment of it all still stung.

"We both weren't half-naked," Ron mumbled.

Hermione sniggered. "No, that was just you, Ron."

"It's not funny! My mum saw that picture."

"Ron, it wasn't that bad." Harry reassured him. "Really."

Actually, it was _that_ bad. Rita had burst in on the men after about five minutes of fervent groping. A lot could be said about the woman, but not knowing how to do her job wasn't one of them. She had followed them to their rendezvous spot and cunningly calculated the right time to surprise the pair. If she had come in any earlier, she would have only been awarded with a picture of a kiss. If she had waited any longer, the picture would have been too risqué for any decent paper.

But she had come in at exactly the right moment. Both men's dress robes had been removed and were laying at the bottom of their feet. Harry had unbuttoned and lowered Ron's shirt down to just below his elbows. If that hadn't been embarrassing enough, Ron's hands were shoved down the back of Harry's trousers, clutching his arse.

The next morning, the picture encompassed the entire front page of _The Daily Prophet_. They didn't even bother with a headline. The picture had captured the couple's relationship that they had successfully hid for over four years. The scene showed them snogging for a few seconds, then looking horrified at the camera with swollen ruby lips and faces rubbed raw from stubble. Ron's famous red hair was tousled and finger swept. It rivaled Harry's on his worst hair day. The peep show ended with Ron circling his arms around Harry's head and pulling him to his chest to hide his lover's face from the camera.

The _Order of Merlin_ induction had brought up painful memories that Harry and Ron had refused to talk or think about. Ministry officials had insisted in recounting all of the events that led up to Harry's final confrontation with Voldemort. Harry was forced to sit in a crowd of mostly strangers and listen to a replay of Ron's capture and two days of torture at the hands of the Death Eaters. Ron was equally disturbed to be forced to recall the three days after Harry had defeated Voldemort. Harry had been in a coma and Ron kept a constant vigil by his bedside. No one knew if Harry would ever wake up and Ron had been inconsolable.

Both men were horrible at vocalizing their feelings and the suppressed emotions of anguish sent the lover's spiraling out of control. So, a few innocent touches quickly turned into clinging to each other in the cloakroom out of desperation to show the other how they felt.

"What's done is done," Hermione said decisively. "Now you have the opportunity to take a horrible experience and do something good! _Witch Weekly_ published a poll they conducted the week your picture came out. Support of gay marriage rose by thirty percent! People are looking at it differently now and it's because of you two."

"I know you mean well," said Harry. "But I don't want to become the poster boy for gay rights. I've done my good. Now, I want to get on with my life."

Hermione started pacing again. "Being gay is your life! Don't you two want the same rights as married couples?"

"We love each other. We're committed to each other. We don't need a ceremony or a piece of paper to prove it," Harry explained.

"It's more complicated than that," she said. "Don't you remember how hard it was for Remus after Sirius died?"

"Huh?" said Harry.

"He was homeless. Sirius didn't leave a will, so Grimmauld Place and all of Sirius' money went to Narcissa Malfoy and Andromeda Black, because they were his closest relatives that were living and _not_ a criminal."

Harry lied. "Oh, yeah, sure. I remember."

"Do you have a will, Harry?" she asked.

"Er, no," he admitted sheepishly.

"And you are aware that if you died, all of your money would be converted to Muggle money and given to the Dursleys?"

Harry's eyes opened wide in shock.

Ron scowled. "They couldn't take the house. It's in my name, too."

Harry looked nervously around their newly acquired house. The house they both loved. The house they wanted to make into a home that they could grow old in – together.

"Could they?" Harry asked weakly.

She nodded solemnly. "They'd be entitled to half of its value."

Harry looked at Ron with a serious expression. "First thing in the morning, I'll look into getting a will drawn up. I promise."

Hermione continued. "And if you were physically unable to make decisions for yourself, the Dursleys would be granted the authority to make them for you."

"I get the point," Harry retorted bluntly.

"It's not just about legal matters. It's about acceptance. Don't you want society to acknowledge that you have a right to be in love?"

"Hermione, we don't need people to tell us it is right for us to be in love. We are! And that's not going to change, whether they think we should be or not!" Harry said heatedly.

Hermione flopped down on a chair across from Harry and looked at him with pleading eyes. "Think about the wizards and witches that still hide their relationships, because people aren't going to overlook their sexual preference… because they are not the famous Harry Potter!"

Harry ran his hands through his hair. "I really do understand. But-"

"But nothing! You have an obligation to-"

"Obligation!" Harry shouted. His patience was visibly fraying. "I think we've given enough to the community. I almost gave my life! Ron almost gave his sanity! What else do people want from us?"

Hermione, looking defeated, leaned back in the chair. "You're right, Harry. I'm sorry. I understand why you want your privacy. I just believe it's a grave injustice that same sex couples can't get married, because a few small minded people can't let go of their prejudices."

"I agree. It would be nice if the Ministry changed their policy to let them marry, but I just don't want to throw my personal life into the middle of the battle."

"Ron, you've been unusually quiet during this discussion. How do you feel about it?" asked Hermione.

"I think it would be nice," said Ron. There was an odd note of wistfulness in his voice that made Harry turn to look at him.

Ron had abandoned his broom and was sitting on the floor with his knees pulled up to his chest, staring affectionately at Harry.

"Ron? I thought you said it didn't matter that we couldn't get married?" asked Harry. His eyes were wide with surprise.

"It doesn't _really_ matter. I just… I don't know." Ron shrugged his shoulders and looked at Harry shyly. "I think it would be _nice_."

"Really? Would you… I mean… is this something you've thought about?"

"I reckon… it's silly. But, yeah, I've daydreamed about how I would ask you. You know… _if_ we could get married," Ron confessed.

Harry swallowed twice, trying to find his voice. "Ron. I-I didn't know that. W-what would you do? If you could… um… marry me."

Ron stood up and brushed off his trousers. Seeing Ron blush a brilliant shade of red, made Harry begin to fidget in his seat.

"Well, I'd have to do it nice and proper… see." Ron approached Harry. "I'd get down on one knee. Like this." He bent down on his right knee, placed a hand on Harry's leg, and locked their eyes.

"And then I'd tell you how I don't regret any of it. Not the chess set, or the brains, or the torture. Because it all led me to this. To _you_. I'd be able to stand a month's worth of beatings and broken bones, if I knew you were waiting for me on the other end of it."

He took a deep breath and continued in a gentle tone. "I'd tell you that I want to share everything with you. My family. My bed. My life. I'd tell you that I love you and that I'm sorry I have a hard time saying it. I'd promise you that I will spend the rest of my life loving you and trying to make you as happy as you make me. And finally, I'd say – Will you marry me?"

Ron cleared his throat. "That's what I'd do, if I could ask you, Harry James Potter, to marry me."

Harry was momentarily stunned. His heart was so filled with love, he was afraid it was going to explode. He lowered his chin to his chest as he choked back emotions that were threatening to release themselves through tears.

When he regained his composure, he looked up and met Ron's gaze. "I think you just did," he said softly.

Ron's lips curved into a shy smile and his bright blue eyes beamed at Harry with love. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." Harry nodded his head slowly. "Yeah, you did."

"Then what would you say?"

Harry leaned down to capture Ron's lips in a soft kiss.

When the kiss ended, but their lips were still brushing against each other's, Harry whispered, "Yes."

Ron yanked Harry up by the arms into a standing position and pulled him into a bone-crushing hug.

"You mean it? You'd marry me," Ron said excitedly.

Harry pushed Ron back so he could look at him. "Of course, I would. _If_ we could get married."

Ron frowned, his eyes that had been gleaming with joy filled with sadness. "Right. _If_ we could," he said glumly.

It was then that Harry heard Hermione sniffling and turned to look at her. She had a tissue and was dabbing at her tear stained face. She saw Harry looking at her and started to cry again.

"Oh… H-Harry. R-R-Ron… that was -"

With a determined look on his face, Harry interrupted her, "We'll help you. Just tell us what you want us to do."

Hermione squealed with delight and jumped from her seat to embrace both men.

"You're doing the right thing! Everything is going to work out. I promise."

Harry wasn't convinced she was right, but the ecstatic look on Ron's face was worth the try.

**End of Part One**


	2. The Engagement

**Part Two - **_**The Engagement**_

Caught up in the excitement of the moment, Hermione launched into a speech regarding what their next steps should be. She was so engrossed in the sound of her own voice that the heated and steady gaze the newly engaged couple was sharing went completely unnoticed by her.

Ron finally seized her by the elbow and briskly led her into the fireplace with a promise they would visit her first thing the next morning. The sounds of her protest came to an abrupt halt when she spotted an unmistakable bulge in Ron's jeans. Diverting her eyes to the floor, she stretched out her hand and willingly accepted the floo powder Ron thrust into it.

The second Hermione was engulfed in emerald green flames, Ron and Harry's bodies crashed together in a frenzied hormonal state. They were so overly excited that within minutes they were naked on the couch, becoming a single entity of tangled limbs and sweaty flesh. Whispers of endearments swiftly turned into cries of pleasure as the couple confirmed their promise to each other.

Eventually, they moved to their bed and continued making love through the night. The first light of the day was beginning to creep into the room when the lovers finally curled up in each other's arms and fell asleep.

It was well past what was considered morning when they got out of bed and stumbled sleepily into their kitchen, only to find Hermione waiting for them. Books and dozens of papers were strewn across the table and a rumpled-looking Hermione was hunched over a parchment, writing feverishly.

To their surprise, she didn't reprimand them for their laziness. Instead, she tidied up the papers and went to work making tea and sandwiches. While they ate, she told them that she had scheduled a meeting the next day with Ben Canterbury, the head of the gay and lesbian advocacy group – GLAMP (Gay/Lesbian Alliance for Magical People). After Ron's jokes and Hermione's eye rolls, she began to babble on about Canterbury. She seemed to know a lot about him, including that he was Muggle-born, a Gryffindor, and Head Boy.

Ron teased her that it sounded like she had a crush on him. She ignored his comments, but as she continued, she was blushing a brilliant shade of purple.

As Hermione continued to recount various activities Canterbury and GLAMP engaged in, doubts began to invade Harry's mind. Petitions, protests, and boycotts were not his style. He stole a quick glance at Ron and was surprised to find that he was listening intently. Ron kept giving nods of agreement and asking questions that had Hermione bouncing in her seat with excitement as she answered.

* * *

Ron sat on his favorite chair by the fire and peered over the edge of his book, looking at Harry. Ron was trying to gauge how deep Harry was into his mood. Since Hermione left a few hours before, Harry had been acting distant and pensive.

After watching Harry stare at a magazine for five minutes without turning a page, Ron decided it was time to reach out and make a gesture, hoping silently that it wasn't going to turn into a row.

"What's wrong?" asked Ron.

"Nothing," Harry replied irritably. "Why?"

"If nothing is wrong… then why this?" Ron gestured at his forehead as he mimicked Harry's furrowed brow.

With a heavy sigh, Harry stood and wandered over to their writing desk as Ron followed him with his eyes. Harry waved his hands over the pamphlets, books, and assorted gay rights paraphernalia Hermione had left for them.

"What did you think of all this?" he asked.

"I think it's Hermione being… well… Hermione. I know it's a lot to take in at first."

Harry started to pick through the items. "Alternative lifestyle. Gay partners. Same-sex marriage. All these labels to explain this…" He waved his hand in the space between him and Ron. "Us."

"People like to put labels on things," remarked Ron.

"Yeah, I know a bit about that."

Ron answered slowly, choosing his words carefully. "If it makes you feel any better, I don't know if I buy into all of it either." He paused and watched Harry chew on his bottom lip. "But I think it's a cause worth fighting for, if it gives everyone the rights they deserve."

Harry threw his hands in the air. "That's just it, Ron. It's a fight. I'm so tired of fighting."

Harry started to walk back to the couch, but Ron stopped him by grabbing his forearm.

"Come here, you," said Ron gently, pulling Harry onto his lap.

Feeling the tension in Harry's body, Ron spoke in a calm voice, "You don't have to do this for me."

Harry sighed and buried his head in the crook of Ron's neck. "It's not just for you. It's for us. I want this, too. I'm sorry. I don't want to spoil your good mood."

Ron didn't say anything in return. He only caressed Harry's hair with one hand and his back with the other until he felt Harry begin to relax.

"I could stay like this all night," Harry said lazily.

"Hm," Ron mumbled agreeably."But we can't. We have to go see your Mum and Dad and tell them about us. If your Mum finds out about it before we tell her then –"

Ron finished Harry's sentence. "Neither of us would live to see our next birthdays?"

"Yeah, that."

* * *

Ron's parents were ecstatic at the news of their engagement. Harry almost collapsed out of relief. Harry had always worried about the Weasley's true feelings regarding their son's choice of a partner. He had been in his post-battle coma when Ron declared to his family that they were more than just friends. And because he hadn't been there to see their reactions, he constantly wondered if they really accepted their relationship or if they were only being polite.

Harry didn't know it, but his fears weren't completely off the mark.

_On the second day of Harry's coma, the doctors at St. Mungo's informed the group gathered at his bedside that there was nothing more they could do for him. Ron went into a panic-stricken state, screaming for everyone to leave the room with a threat to hex anyone that didn't. Mrs. Weasley attempted to reason with him and Ron confessed their relationship. _

_'Everyone out! NOW! I'll take care of Harry!'_

_'Please, Ronald. You're tired. You need to rest, too.'_

_'I can rest in here with Harry. I'm not leaving him!'_

_'There's only one bed in here. You can't sleep in the chair –'_

_'I won't be!'_

_'You can't sleep on the floor!''_

_'Just get out!'_

_'We all care about Harry, dear. We know how you feel.'_

_'No you don't! None of you know how I feel!'_

_'We know you're upset, but Harry wouldn't want –'_

_'I know what he wants! He wants me to be here when he wakes up!'_

_'Ron, please, Harry would under -'_

_'You're so thick, Mum. Don't you get it? We're… w-w-well… H-H-Harry and I-I are… Oh, bloody hell! Ginny just get her out of here and explain it!'_

_Mrs. Weasley didn't need Ginny to explain it to her. As a mother of seven, she knew all too well what Ron's blushing and stammering meant. She left the room speechless, the rest of the group following in a stunned silence._

_Mrs. Weasley spent the remainder of that evening talking to her husband about Ron's declaration. She was adamant that their feelings were only a result of the strong bond they had built after Voldemort's return, insisting it was only a phase and Ron and Harry would outgrow it now that Voldemort was dead. She pestered Mr. Weasley until he halfheartedly agreed to talk to Ron about it as soon as the time was right._

_The next morning, Mrs. Weasley entered Harry's hospital room in an attempt to persuade Ron to eat breakfast. She quietly opened the door and peered inside. The sight before her didn't lessen her worries of the ignorance and hate her son would have to endure, but she no longer believed that he was only going through a phase. _

_She had a clear view of Ron who had joined Harry on the small hospital cot. He was laying on his side, propped up on an elbow, tenderly stroking Harry's cheek and talking to him in a soft voice that she never thought capable of her son. _

_Even though Ron's face was still covered by the hideous bruises inflicted on him during his capture by the Death Eaters, Mrs. Weasley thought he never looked more beautiful then he did at that moment._

_With tears in her eyes, she silently backed out of the room and returned to her family. She then proceeded to scold her very confused husband for thinking that Ron's feelings for Harry were anything but genuine._Maybe it was because of the guilt over her initial feelings regarding their relationship, but when Ron announced that he and Harry wanted to get married, she went a bit overboard. She yanked both boys into her arms, sobbing madly and instructing Mr. Weasley to contact all of the other Weasley children to come home immediately for a celebration.

In less than an hour, the entire family was gathered at The Burrow for an impromptu party. Ginny contacted Hermione, who showed up just in time for Molly's enormous feast.

The party lasted well past midnight, until Hermione gently reminded Harry and Ron of their early morning meeting. Begrudgingly, they Disapparated home and immediately collapsed onto their bed from too much wine, still fully clothed.

The next morning, Harry woke in a much better mood and not only because there was a very randy Ron undressing him while nibbling at his ear. He had never felt more special then when Ron proposed to him. He had thought the fact that Ron wanted to get married would be enough, but the night before he had begun to understand what marriage meant – it meant officially being part of a family. Something that Harry had always wanted and long ago stopped believing could happen.

Ron was kneeling between Harry's legs moving his mouth seductively down Harry's stomach when Harry stopped him from going any further.

"Ron?"

"M'yeah."

"If this all works out, have you thought what our surnames would be?" pondered Harry.

With his mouth still attached to a patch of skin above Harry's right hipbone, Ron raised only his eyes.

"Have you?" Harry asked again.

Ron abandoned his oral assault on Harry's stomach and adjusted himself to lie next to Harry. "We can just keep our names as they are. If that's what you want?"

"I think I'd like to add them together. Hyphenate them." He turned to look at Ron. "Would do you think?"

"Like Potter-Weasley or Weasley-Potter?"

In a mock professional-sounding tone, Harry said, "I'm rather fond of Potter-Weasley. You?"

"I think that sounds just brilliant," Ron replied brightly.

Harry kissed the corner of Ron's mouth that was set in a goofy grin. "Me, too."

"Good. Now that that's settled. Can I get back to what I was doing?"

"No," Harry replied curtly.

"No?" Ron asked, bewildered.

"It's nine already. If we're not at Ben Canterbury's office at exactly ten, Hermione will have our heads."

"Since when do you…" Ron cut off his words when he noticed the look of anticipation on Harry's face. "Okay, you get in the shower. I'll get out our good robes."

* * *

Within minutes of meeting Ben Canterbury, Harry knew why Hermione was so enamored with him. He was extremely handsome with a charming demeanor, welcoming the men as if he had been studying them for years. He greeted Harry nonchalantly with not even one glance at his scar. With Ron, he was brotherly, avidly complimenting him on his coaching skills that gave the Chudley Cannons their best season ever.

When the introductions were over, Ben offered his guests seats at a round table near a window and got right down to business. "Thank you both for offering your support. I understand that the manner in which your relationship was uncovered was difficult for the both of you. But now that your relationship is out in the open, we need for people to hear the whole story.""The whole story?" asked Ron.

"Yes. People will want to know how you fell in love, what type of relationship you have, and what your plans for the future are," Ben explained.

Ron shared a concerned look with Harry. "Well, see, we're kind of private about all of that."

With a sympathetic nod, Ben said, "I understand. Unfortunately, that horrid Skeeter woman made your relationship very not private." "What are you suggesting?" Harry asked cautiously.

"Interviews. But not together. Two separate interviews, both of you talking about your life from your point of view."

Hermione piped in before the men had a chance to protest. "What publications do you recommend, Ben?"

"Witch Weekly for Harry and Quidditch Illustrated for Ron," Ben answered confidently.

"Quidditch Illustrated?" asked Ron, mystified. "What does being in love with a man have to do with Quidditch?"

"A lot," replied Ben, "since you are an up and coming Quidditch coach _and_ you are in love with a man. Besides, you have that regular bloke attitude that straight males find less threatening."

Harry raised his eyebrows. "Er, so what does that mean? I have a flaming poof personality that other men find revolting?"

Ben quickly abolished dismissed that thought. "No. No, not at all. Since you are England's newest reserve Seeker, at first, I thought you would do a Quidditch Illustrated interview as well. But the point of the interviews is for the community to understand that being gay is… well… normal. I think our best strategy is to reach out to both men and women. I choose Witch Weekly because women fawn all over you. You have a history that makes women want to comfort you. They empathize with what you've been through and they want you to be happy."

"We're not really good at this sort of thing," Harry said, glancing apprehensively at Ron. "Interviews and talking with the press."

"Don't worry about that," Ben reassured. "I know an independent journalist that is very good at getting her interviewees to open up. She's very professional and will report what you say honestly. No misquotes or twisting of your words. If you agree, I'll contact both publications, but I'm certain they will be more than happy to publish the interviews."

"Ben, that is just perfect!" exclaimed Hermione dramatically. "Harry – Ron – What do you think?"

"I'm not sure," replied Harry doubtfully, shifting uneasily in his seat. "Things are starting to die down from the Prophet's photo and won't this just stir it all up again?"

Ben thumped his hands on the table, causing the rest of them to flinch. "We hope so! Hopefully, it will cause people to stand up and demand that the Ministry change its law and allow gay marriage. The two of you are the most famous gay couple in the wizarding world. Did you know that a North American wizarding paper picked up the photo and published it on their front page?"

Harry groaned and put his head in his hands. Ron squeezed his shoulder in comfort.

Ben waited until Harry raised his head before he continued. "Harry, I promise you that the interviews will be short and I will be beside both of you all the way to deflect the press off of you."

"Now is the perfect time to do this!" Hermione pointed out. "You don't have to return to Quidditch training for well over a month. You can lie low during the storm."

Ron reached out his hand to Harry and intertwined their fingers. "Harry?"

Harry hated that they had to do this just to try to get married. Nothing they did was guaranteed to work. He feared it would all be in vain and the only thing they would get out of it would be more harassment and embarrassment.

He squeezed Ron's hand and swallowed hard. "I want to read my interview before it's released," he said resolutely. "If one word is changed from what I approve, then you will no longer have our support."

"Same goes for me," added Ron with a relieved expression.

"Deal," Ben said triumphantly. "Hermione, will you write up the contract?"

Her brown curls bounced around her shoulder as she nodded her head eagerly.

"Great." Ben stood up and the rest of the group followed. "I'll send an owl when I have the interviews scheduled."

* * *

Ben rushed the interviews. Only two days after their initial meeting, Harry and Ron found themselves meeting with the writer Ben had selected. The reporter, Maggie Worthington, was an attractive older woman with a petite face and short brown hair spattered with gray. Even though she was much shorter than Harry, she had a strong presence that gave off an expectation of respect.

She was also a Muggle. Forty years before, she married a wizard. Ben knew her through her youngest daughter, Katherine. Katherine and Ben had attended Hogwarts together and they had built a friendship that extended past their school days. Harry had been surprised to find out that the daughter in question was the best Chaser on the Holyhead Harpies, an all-Witch professional Quidditch team. He and Ron had met Katherine on several occasions and Ron had vowed to recruit her.

Two weeks after his discussion with Maggie, Harry was hiding out in the shower, anxious over the release of his interview that morning. As promised, Ben provided them with the final copies for their approval. Harry was with Ron when they read over his, but Ron had yet to see Harry's. A Cannon coaches' meeting had kept him delayed and Harry had reluctantly signed off on his interview alone.

A majority of Ron's story revolved around his job as an Assistant Coach with what was once the worst Quidditch team in history. It included quotes from the Head Coach, Michael McNamara, regarding his brilliant training techniques and game strategy that helped their Chasers break records in scoring.

Ben had been correct in saying that Maggie was a very good interviewer. She apparently knew exactly what Ben was looking for from both interviews. The article on Ron was straightforward and when it came to his relationship with Harry, it was fairly tame. Honest and open, but without revealing anything that might put off the men that read the magazine.

The topic of Harry and Ron's relationship wasn't discussed until the end of the interview. Maggie wrote about the humiliating aftermath of the Prophet photo and then targeted her questions towards Ron's relationship.

_Maggie: 'How do you think other men, especially those in the Quidditch leagues, will treat you now that it has been revealed that you are involved in a sexual relationship with a man?'_

_Ron: 'I don't think of it as a sexual relationship. It's much, much more than that, despite how that picture made it look. And I'm not in love with just any man. I'm in love with Harry.' (Pause) 'Oh, that didn't really answer your question. I think there will be some who might look at me differently now. But I think that once the publicity dies down, things will go back to normal. My ability to coach Quidditch has nothing to do with who I choose to spend my life with.'_

_Maggie: 'Everyone knows the story of the last days of Voldemort. It must have been extremely difficult for you. Was thinking of Harry how you got through your capture by the Death Eaters?''_

_Ron: 'All I could think about was Harry. I was terrified. I knew they captured me as a trap for him and I didn't want him to do something that would put him at risk.'_

_Maggie: 'But he did and, as they say, the rest was history.' _

_Ron: 'Voldemort's downfall was bittersweet for Harry and me. Harry thought I was dead when he went after Voldemort. I was rescued after he had already gone. Then he went into that coma and, for three days, I didn't know if he'd ever come out of it or if he'd be the same. Voldemort's dead and that is something to celebrate, but for us it was the worst time of our lives.'_

_Maggie: 'And is this the best time of your lives?'_

_Ron: 'For me it is. Harry's safe and he's playing professional Quidditch.' chuckles 'As safe as that can be! I have the career I've always dreamed of. And we recently decided that we would like to get married.' _

_Maggie: 'Congratulations to both you and Harry. Since wizard's law prohibits same-sex marriage, does that mean you will have a non-official ceremony?'_

_Ron: 'We're hoping to persuade the Ministry of Magic to change that unfair law. We haven't really talked about anything beyond that.'_

Underneath the spray of hot water, Harry kept replaying his own interview over in his mind. He kept pausing over the words, surprised they had actually come out of his mouth. The article was truthful and contained Harry's exact statements. He had gotten personal, much more so than Ron, and the fear of someone using that against him was eating away at his insides.

When Harry's fingers and toes began to wrinkle, he emerged from the shower, trying to muster the strength to face the day. Hermione had promised to send both publications by owl immediately upon their release.

He towel dried his hair, wrapped a towel around his waist, and went to the bedroom prepared to wake up Ron. However, as he walked down the hallway, he could see Ron sitting on the edge of the bed. A magazine was spread out across his knees and Harry felt as if his heart stopped when he realized his interview had been released to the public.

Drawing closer to the doorway, he could see that Ron was slowly running an index finger back and forth over a spot on the page. Ron's head was lowered and his shaggy hair was framing his face, stopping Harry from seeing his expression. Harry lingered in the doorway curiously watching his lover.

After a few moments, Ron looked up with a serious look on his face. "I didn't know this," he said, his voice wavering slightly.

"Know what?" replied Harry.

"What you said here?" He pointed at the page. "When Maggie asked you when you knew what you felt for me was more than just friendship."

Still feeling nervous, but more concerned over what he had said that had an obvious affect on Ron, Harry sat on the bed and leaned against him, reading where he was pointing.

_Harry: 'I can't pinpoint the exact time and date when I knew. There was always something different with the way I felt about Ron. As things got worse for me, I grew more attached to him.'_

_Maggie: "Attached how?'_

_Harry: 'After I lost my godfather, being around Ron was the only thing that made me feel better. It was the only time I forgot.'_

_Maggie: 'Was there something special he did?'_

_Harry: 'No. He was just being Ron and that was enough. When we went back to Hogwarts for our sixth year, I started to notice how I felt when he would touch me. It wasn't anything sexual! Just normal touches like a hand on my shoulder or fingers brushing when he passed me a quill.'_

_Maggie: 'Did you act on that right away?'_

_Harry: 'I didn't tell him if that's what you mean. It was silly, but I used to find reasons to touch him. I started to crave his touch and then eventually those brief, tiny touches didn't seem to be enough.'_

_Maggie: 'Who took the big step towards your relationship? You or Ron?'_

_Harry: 'Ron. It wasn't anything romantic or some grand gesture. We were the last students left in the Common Room studying for our end of term exams. I reached over him to get a book and he kissed me.'_

_Maggie: 'How did you feel?'_

_Harry: 'I was terrified.'_

_Maggie: 'Terrified?'_

_Harry: 'Yeah… see… not very romantic. I was sure my sorry excuses for us to touch had become obvious. I was afraid that he was only doing it because he thought I was lonely.'_

_Maggie: 'When did you realize that it wasn't for that reason?'_

_Harry: 'Over time. No one commits themselves to someone the way Ron has committed himself to me because of pity.'_

Harry reached over and pushed a strand of Ron's hair away from his face, tucking it behind his ear. "What didn't you know, love?"

Still staring at the page and tracing the words with his finger, Ron said softly, "I didn't know that you felt that way about me before I kissed you."

Harry looked thoroughly startled. "Really?"

"I thought you only kissed me back because you were lonely," Ron replied warily.

Harry cupped Ron's jaw and turned Ron's face towards his. Harry's heart broke a little when he saw a touch of sorrow in the eyes he loved so much. "How could you think that? You know I love you!"

"I know you do – now. I just thought that all came after I kissed you."

"So, you thought that I wasn't interested in you until you kissed me. Did you think I kept kissing you just to see where it would go?"

"Yeah." Ron groaned. "I know I'm a prat."

"Oh, Ron, you're not a prat… I'm sorry. I'm the great big wanker! I should've told you how I felt then. I was mental over you!"

"You were?" Ron asked, unable to hide the emotion in his voice.

"Yeah. Didn't you notice?"

Ron shook his head and the strand of hair from behind his ear fell back into his face.

"I was and I still am," Harry said, sliding his hand underneath Ron's hair to rest on the nape of his neck. "I should tell you more often how much I love you."

Harry knew his eyes were flooded with the feelings that were suddenly overwhelming him.

Ron's expression turned comforting. "You don't have to tell me. I know."

"How?" asked Harry, his voice full of melancholy.

"Little ways… Harry ways."

Harry raised his eyebrows in a quizzical manner. Ron elaborated. "'Cause you never come home from shopping without a box of Chocolate Frogs for me. And you wear my old hideous Chudley Cannon's t-shirt to bed."

"I love that t-shirt!" Harry said defensively.

"I do, too. And you look dead fucking sexy in it."

Harry took the magazine from Ron's lap and threw it on the floor. Pressing his hand in the middle of Ron's chest, he pushed him flat on his back and straddled him around the waist. The towel fell off his hips leaving him completely naked.

Clutching two fistfuls of Harry's hair, Ron pulled him down into a needy and desperate kiss. Feelings of remorse welled up inside of Harry. He realized that Ron must have be the one that felt lonely in the beginning, not understanding how deep Harry's love for him ran.

Harry recalled all of the feelings of desire and painful longing he felt for Ron before their first kiss. He poured all of them into this kiss, wanting nothing more than for Ron to understand that he didn't just love him – he needed him.

Their lips parted and Ron wordlessly mouthed, 'Wow.' He placed his thumb and lightly feathered it over Harry's bottom lip.

"That's how you made me feel the first time you kissed me," Harry whispered. "I wished I would have told you then."

Ron opened his mouth to reply, but closed it again when the sounds of someone flooing in downstairs reached their bedroom. Harry's laid his forehead on Ron's shoulder and whimpered.

They both said, "Hermione."

"She can wait," Ron growled and rolled Harry over onto his back. "There's no way I'm going to get out of this bed when there is a naked, sexy smelling, and still damp Harry Potter in it!"

The men knew Hermione wouldn't dare come upstairs. There had been an embarrassing incident on Christmas morning that none of them could easily forget.

An hour later, the men descended the stairs and once again found Hermione at their kitchen table surrounded by papers.

Hermione didn't even give them a chance to say good morning. "It's so exciting!" she began, but was interrupted by an owl madly pecking at the kitchen window.

She opened the window with her wand and the owl flew in.

"It's another letter!" she exclaimed, removing the note from the owl's outstretched leg. She saw a distressed look on Harry's face and quickly added. "Don't get upset. They're all in support of what we are trying to do."

"Really?" asked Harry skeptically.

"Well, no," she admitted weakly. "There were a few that weren't so nice. But they are greatly outnumbered."

"Let me see them," Ron said, holding out his hand.

"No," she replied firmly. "I burned them! They aren't worth your time. These," she waved her hands over the pieces of parchment, "are the ones you should be focusing on."

Ron started shifting through the papers. "There must be fifty letters here."

"And there are more going to the Ministry," added Hermione gleefully. "Ben's beside himself. His contact at the Ministry said the Minister is being bombarded with owls from all over Britain. They all want him to remove the ban on same-sex marriages."

"All because of our interviews?" asked Harry in amazement.

"Yes," she sighed. "Just because you hate the attention, Harry, doesn't mean that you aren't an influential wizard."

Harry rocked nervously on the balls of his feet and eyed the letters suspiciously.

Ron slipped his arms around his waist from behind to still him. "We'll read them later if you want to."

"I have to get going," Hermione announced, standing while she stacked the letters into a pile. "I have to get to Ben's office. He's organizing a little celebration party at his home tomorrow evening. You must be there. You are the guests of honor."

"Well if you insist," Ron said sarcastically.

"It will be fun! Ben has a gorgeous home and -"

"When did you see his home?" interrupted Ron.

"I, um, well, I didn't want to say anything because it's new and all, but Ben and I have been dating."

Both men stared dumbly at her.

"What?" she said angrily.

"Hermione, er, isn't Ben gay?" asked Ron.

"No," she replied in a manner that implied they were foolish to have ever thought so.

"Well, I guess we just assumed," Harry said, looking astonishingly at Ron.

"That's what happens when you assume!" she said bitingly. "Ben was raised by two gay women that adopted him. He doesn't have to be gay to assist the gay community in their struggles."

Harry and Ron looked at one another and smirked.

"You're right," Harry said sincerely.

"That's great, Hermione!" Ron said cheerfully. "He seems like a really nice bloke."

"He is!" She grinned foolishly. "Now, I really have to be going. I'm going to place a charm on your windows to divert the owls to Ben's office. His assistant will sort through the letters."

Harry sat alone at the kitchen table while Ron walked Hermione to the floo. His curiosity got the best of him and he unfolded one of the letters.

_To: Mr. Harry Potter and Mr. Ronald Weasley_

_I wanted you to know that you have my support in your efforts to remove the ban on gay marriage. I have already written a letter to the Ministry regarding this issue._

_After what you did for us, both of you deserve nothing but loads of happiness. I think you are both very brave for telling your side of the story. _

_Harry, I was at Hogwarts with your parents. I know they would be very proud of you._

_Warmest wishes,_

_Georgina Horestar_

"Harry, are you okay?"

Startled, Harry looked up and saw Ron watching him from the doorway with a worried expression.

"Was it a letter from some nutter?"

"No," Harry said wistfully. "The woman was very nice. I'd like to read more of these… with you."

"Sure, Harry, whatever you want."

**End of Part Two**

**Part Three - Coming Soon**


	3. The Gift

**Part Three - _The Gift_ **

The party at Ben's was underway and despite Harry's best efforts to avoid Hermione and Ben, he found himself trapped in a corner with them. They were aggressively trying to get him to agree to participate in a rally at the Ministry in a few days. Desperate to be saved, Harry scanned the room for a head full of shaggy red Ron hair. It didn't take him long. A few inches taller than most of the crowd, Ron stood out blatantly.

Hermione's voice droned on. "And another reason I think you should attend is because –"

"Ron is looking for me," Harry interrupted.

Hermione eyed him suspiciously before following his gaze to Ron, who was standing across the room talking to an elderly wizard. She started to disagree when, as if he could read sense Harry's need, Ron looked over at them and motioned at Harry to join him. A look of relief washed over Harry's face.

"See you later." Harry grinned triumphantly at Hermione before he walked away to join Ron.

As Harry approached him, Ron smiled brightly and extended his hand to grip Harry's elbow. "Harry, I want you to meet someone."

Harry turned to Ron's new friend to offer his hand in greeting. The man looked slightly familiar to Harry and he hoped that he wasn't about to embarrass himself by forgetting someone he had met before.

The old man clasped Harry's hand between both of his. "Pleasure to make your acquaintance, Harry. Ron here has been talking my ear off about you."

"Nice to meet you, um…"

"Archie. Archie Alverston."

Chuckling softly, Ron elbowed Harry lightly in the ribs.

Harry gave him a quizzical look; there was an inside joke and he wasn't getting it.

Archie started to speak before Ron could explain. "I was just telling Ron here how lucky you young folks are!"

"Harry, Archie and his partner have been together for seventy-seven years! Can you believe that?"

"Incredible," Harry said in awe.

"Yeah, well," Archie continued. "Like I was saying, back when I was your age, had one of us been caught in the compromising position you two were, our wands would've been snapped."

A twinge of panic burned Harry's insides.

"That's just awful," commented Ron, putting his arm around Harry's waist and pulling him close.

"Archie, you crazy, old coot!" a shaky voice bellowed.

Harry turned to the voice and saw another elderly Wizard walking towards them with two drinks in his hand.

"Stop telling this lovely young couple horror stories!" the new arrival scolded. "This is supposed to be a celebration. Things aren't like that anymore."

"Well, that was my point!" Archie snapped.

"Hullo, Harry and Ron. I'm Willard." He smiled and handed a glass to Archie so he could shake their hands. "The unlucky bastard that has had to put up with him for seventy-six -"

"Seven!" Archie interjected.

"Seventy-_seven_ years," Willard corrected with a roll of his eyes.

"Did they really snap wands?" asked Harry uneasily.

Willard scowled at Archie before he replied. "Yes, Harry, I'm afraid that is true. Years ago, it was very important to many people to keep reproducing pureblood wizards. It wasn't only gays. Those that fell in love with Muggles suffered the same fate."

"That's why we wear these pins," Archie said, pointing his finger proudly at the neck of his robes. "To remind of us of how far we've come."

Harry looked at the pin he hadn't noticed before. It was gold with intersecting wands that had clearly been broken and were tied back together with a string.

"I'm sorry," Ron said glumly, while inspecting the symbol.

Willard put a hand on Ron's shoulder. "Don't be sorry. Now, ignore him and let's talk about more pleasant things."

The conversation quickly turned to Quidditch, and Harry was engrossed in the couple's vast memories of spectacular Quidditch matches they had witnessed.

Ron looked positively delighted at being in their presence. He kept catching Harry's eye and winking mischievously. More than once, Ron put his arm around Harry's shoulders and hugged him while they sniggered at Willard and Archie bickering over who was telling the story correctly.

Harry noticed that Ron had been unusually physical the entire evening. Excluding Hermione and the Weasley's, Ron and Harry never showed physical affection in front of others. Harry glanced around and saw other gay couples holding hands or touching each other in some intimate way. Ron had apparently adapted quite well to the environment.

Never before did Harry think that maybe they should spend more time around gay couples. As far as he knew, they didn't know any other gay couples before tonight. It made sense to Harry though. He felt much more relaxed at the party than he normally did when they socialized with their ex-school chums or Quidditch mates. There had always been an unspoken agreement between them that they would behave as if they were only best mates and not the couple in love that they were. This left Harry feeling lonely and detached from Ron. As a result, he often found excuses to decline invitations from some of their closest friends.

So, when Willard and Archie were leaving for the evening and extended an invitation for Harry and Ron to dine at their home the following weekend, both men eagerly accepted.

As soon as the elderly couple was out of earshot, Ron turned to Harry, his eyes twinkling with delight. "Harry, that was Archie! Don't you remember him?"

"He looked familiar," pondered Harry.

"From the Quidditch World Cup. In the nightdress. _I like a healthy breeze 'round my privates…_ That Archie!"

"Oh…" Harry's voice trailed off into a fit of laughter.

Hermione and Ben joined them at that moment and Ron instantly told Hermione about Archie. It took awhile for her giggles to subside enough to inform Ben of what was so funny.

Not really seeing the humor in the story, since it was a you had to be there moment, Ben only smiled politely and then elaborated on his relationship with Archie and Willard.

"They came to me a few years ago to offer their help to the organization. It's been a hard road for them. They fell in love at a time when homosexuals were considered evil. People believed gay sexual acts were parts of dark magic rituals."

"Really?" gasped Ron.

"Ignorance!" Hermione spat in disgust.

Harry noted that she sounded pissed and wondered how many glasses of wine she had to drink prior to the one she was currently clutching in her hand.

"Sick to even think it," added Ben solemnly. "Willard and Archie were lucky, though. Willard had a female friend that did another unspeakable – she feel in love with a Muggle! So, Willard married her and they continued their love affairs outside of the marriage."

"Didn't anyone question why Archie never got married?" asked Ron.

"No. Archie's family had passed on and he had already inherited all of their money. Willard's family was very prestigious and one of the oldest pureblood families in Europe. It was more important for him to carry on the family name."

"Did him and his wife… you know? Have kids?" Harry probed.

"Sort of." Ben grinned. "They had five, all of them fathered by the Muggle but carried Willard's name."

Hermione sniggered. "I bet there are a few pureblood families that don't have that on their family tree!"

"You are correct!" Ben responded, putting an arm around Hermione's shoulder. "Three of the children went on to marry into pureblood families. Two of them married Muggles."

"But now they are open about their relationship?" asked Harry.

"Yes, for about ten years now. Willard's wife took ill after her Muggle lover passed away. They stayed with her until he died. They were too old to care what people thought about them. And to tell the truth, not many people that they had known were still around. So, they moved in together and stopped pretending."

"That's s-s-so s-sad," Hermione sobbed.

Ron peered in the glass of red wine she was holding. "Hermione, how many of these have you had?"

"A few," she giggled, burying her face in Ben's chest.

"She's all yours, mate," quipped Ron, patting Ben on the back. He grabbed Harry's hand. "Come on, Harry, let's mingle."

* * *

The following week, Ben held his rally on the Ministry without Harry or Ron. Hermione informed them that despite their absence it was still a success, even if the Minister had not come out to address the participants. The day after the gathering, The Daily Prophet showed a picture of Willard addressing the crowd. It also dedicated half of the story to speculating why Harry was absent from the event. 

"It doesn't matter if I'm there or not!" Harry said furiously as he read over the article at breakfast. "They are still going to make this about me!"

"It's been this way since you were eleven," Ron sighed exasperatedly. "Ignore it."

"It's just not fair to couples like Willard and Archie," continued Harry. "They risked being banished from the community. They stayed together through it all. This should be about them!"

"Willard and Archie have been through a lot," agreed Ron. "But they don't mind that you get the attention."

"I know they don't," mumbled Harry sullenly.

"Don't forget we're going to dinner at their house on Sunday," Ron stated, attempting to change the subject.

"I won't," snapped Harry.

Ron stood up quickly from the table. "I have to go to my meeting," he said sharply. "New recruit training starts next week."

Harry looked up from the paper and saw the irritated look on Ron's face. "Sorry," he said sincerely.

Ron walked up behind him and planted a kiss on the top of his forehead. "S'kay. I'll see you tonight."

* * *

At Sunday's dinner, Willard and Archie presented their guests with a lavish meal. Willard proudly informed Harry and Ron that Archie had prepared the meal entirely by himself. Archie's only reaction was a grunt, but later was unable to conceal the delight on his face when Ron asked for a third helping of the beef burgundy. 

After dinner, Archie, Ron, and a bottle of Ogden's Old Firewhisky retired to the living room, while Willard invited Harry to his study to show off his vast collection of Quidditch photos that he had collected over the years.

Willard directed Harry towards a plush chair near the desk. "Sit, please."

He retrieved several ancient looking photo albums from his desk and handed one to Harry. He sat in the chair closest to Harry and watched him spend almost an hour browsing through numerous pictures.

Harry stopped often to point at a photograph that displayed Quidditch skills at its finest and asked Willard to replay his first hand account of the maneuver.

One photo marked _Quidditch World Cup 1952_, showed younger versions of Willard and Archie sitting in the stands with a woman nestled between them. The three of them were grinning madly and waving at the photographer.

"Was this your wife?" asked Harry.

Willard looked back at him with mild surprise.

"Ben told me," Harry explained. "I hope you don't mind."

"No, not at all," assured Willard with a wave of his hand.

Willard took the album out of Harry's hand and stared pensively at the photo.

"Yes. This was my wife – Mary Beth. She was a good woman," Willard said wistfully. "She was extremely intelligent. And her heart! She had the biggest heart I've ever known. Your friend reminds me a lot of her."

"Hermione?"

Willard nodded. He looked back at the photo. "Archie worshipped Mary Beth. She was the one that taught him how to cook. They would spend hours in the kitchen." He turned and looked glumly at the door as if he could see Archie through it. "He was devastated when she died. We both were."

"He wasn't jealous?" Harry asked incredulously.

"I suppose he was at first. But we all knew it was the only thing we could do."

"Ron's brain would explode," Harry chuckled. "He's very jealous."

"I think if it were Hermione or someone close to him, he would have made the sacrifice if it meant being with you."

"I suppose," Harry replied skeptically.

"Harry, I know all of this attention must be difficult for you and Ron."

Harry shrugged his shoulders. "A bit. More for me than Ron. I don't like my private life on display."

"It must be putting a strain on your relationship," Willard said sympathetically.

"No. We're fine." Harry responded, more quickly than he intended.

"I'm sure you are. It's obvious the two of you care deeply for each other. But I know how it is at your age with hormones driving your emotions. Talking, Harry, that's the key to a relationship. Are you and Ron able to talk to each other?"

"Sure. We talk about everything."

"About how you feel?"

"About how we feel?" Harry repeated.

"Yes. Do you share your feelings with Ron? Tell him when you are hurt or angry and why you feel that way?"

"We don't really need to. We just know those things. It's always been that way with us."

"I understand," Willard said impishly. "I remember what it was like at your age. When your emotions fueled your hormones and it was much more fun to show the person how you feel, rather than tell them."

"Something like that." Harry blushed.

"Let me give you some advice, Harry. Think of it as an engagement gift." Willard's voice took on a serious tone. "I know now it seems like things will always be this way. My guess is you shag say… six… eight times a week?"

"Uh… Um," Harry stuttered. He was too embarrassed to admit that it was more.

Willard put up his hand and grinned. "No need to answer that. It's a wonderful time. I'm not saying that it shouldn't be enjoyed. Because there will come a time when you are will be lucky to shag once a month. More if you know a good potions master." He winked and then continued, "Talk to each other. No matter how much you love someone one… how much you think you may know them… you aren't a mind reader. Not talking leads to misunderstandings. And misunderstandings lead to resentful feelings."

Just then, a clock began to chime and Harry sighed inwardly with relief that he had an excuse to end the conversation.

"Ten o'clock," he stated, glancing at the grandfather clock in the corner of the room. "We have to call it an evening. Ron has an early morning meeting."

"Sure, Harry." Willard looked as if he was about to add something, but then changed his mind.

Harry opened the door and heard shouts of laughter coming from the living room.

"I think we're going to have to floo home," commented Harry. "Sounds like Ron might wind up splicing himself into a wall if we attempt to Disapparate."

"Oh, my," Willard declared as they approached the living room and heard the end of a naughty joke Archie was telling.

Ron and Archie looked up from their seats by the fire when their partners entered the room.

"Harry," Ron grinned. "Archie here was just telling me –"

"We heard," Willard interrupted in a playful tone. "Archie has shared that joke with me too many times to count."

"Ron, it's getting late," Harry announced, walking towards Ron. "You have –"

Harry yelped as Ron pulled him down onto his lap. "Having fun, love?" Ron said sweetly, staring directly into Harry's face.

"Yes, Ron," Harry smirked.

Willard caught his eye and winked.

Harry wrestled out of Ron's grip. "Let's go, Ronniekins," he said lightheartedly, offering his hand to Ron once he got back on his own feet.

"Gotta go, mate," Ron said, looking at Archie. "_He-who-must-be-obeyed _needs his beauty sleep."

"Funny," said Harry sarcastically. Harry reached down and pulled Ron to his feet by his wrists. He knew Ron wasn't half as pissed as he was pretending to be. Ron could drink with the best of them. He guessed that Ron's giddiness was a result of having spent time with Archie rather than the alcohol they had consumed.

"Thank you for a wonderful evening," expressed Willard. "Archie and I really enjoy your company."

"No, thank you," countered Harry. "It's quite obvious that Ron had a good time. And so did I."

After proper farewells were given and promises of getting together again soon, Harry allowed Ron to floo home first and followed directly behind him.

Harry appeared in their fireplace and immediately saw Ron standing there waiting for him, his eyes half-lidded and blurry with desire.

"I see you've found a partner in crime," Harry teased.

"Yeah, Archie's great. A real character!" Ron said emphatically and then clutched a fistful of Harry's shirt and pulled him into an embrace. "But I was looking forward to getting you alone."

"Mmmm," Harry purred as Ron nibbled his neck. "Let's go upstairs."

Harry went directly to the bedroom as Ron made a stop in the bathroom to mix some potion that would help him avoid a hangover in the morning.

As he begun to undress, his earlier conversation with Willard popped into his head. Harry had always been so sure that he and Ron knew everything about each other, but he recalled the morning his interview was released. Ron hadn't known about Harry's feelings towards him before their first kiss. Then he thought back further to the afternoon Ron proposed. He had not seen that coming and never suspected that Ron thought about marriage.

For the first time since the start of their romantic relationship, he questioned that maybe they didn't understand one another quite as well as he thought they did.

Harry was standing next to their bed staring at a spot on the floor, lost in thought, when Ron startled him by curling his arms around his chest.

"Still dressed, I see. Let me help you with that," Ron said lustfully.

Ron pressed his bare chest against Harry's back and slowly began unbuttoning Harry's shirt. From the first touch of Ron's embrace, Harry had felt the warm, protective feeling settle over him that he only ever felt when he was in Ron's arms.

"Ron?"

"Yeah," Ron responded as he casually removed Harry's shirt and threw it on the floor. He lowered his head to place a tender kiss on Harry's bare shoulder.

"Willard gave me some advice…" His words caught in his throat as Ron lunged his hips forward and Harry felt Ron's naked erection pushing against his lower back.

"Was it good advice?" Ron asked.

Finding it difficult to respond while his earlobe was pressed between Ron's sucking lips, Harry only murmured a sound of agreement.

"Interesting." Ron slowly stroked Harry's hips and thighs. "Archie gave me some advice, too."

"R-really?" Harry managed to croak out, standing on the tips of his toes as Ron's hand passed firmly over the bulge in his pants.

"Yeah. I thought it was very good advice," Ron whispered in his ear as he unbuttoned Harry's jeans. "_Very_ good advice."

Over the sound of his zipper being lowered, Harry asked hoarsely. "What was it?"

Ron lowered a finger under the elastic band of Harry's underwear. "Archie said we're young." Ron licked the sensitive spot behind Harry's ear. "He said it doesn't last forever." He moved his mouth down further and sucked the spot where Harry's neck curved into his shoulder. Harry moaned and jerked his hips, aching for more than just Ron's finger. "He advised me that we should shag…" Ron slid the remaining fingers into Harry's knickers and gripped his heated erection, "as often as we can."

Ron moved his hand away as Harry rushed to lower his pants. When Harry's pants were pushed down to his ankles, Ron took advantage of his awkward state. He dropped down to his knees in front of Harry.

"Fuck," Harry groaned. He leaned forward and grabbed the bedpost with both hands to steady himself.

Ron created a tantalizing suction noise as he removed his mouth to look up at Harry and ask, "So, do you agree?"

Harry moved a hand to the back of Ron's head and urged it back towards him. "Best advice I heard all night."

_End of Part Three_

TBC….


	4. The Counter Proposal

**Notes**: Yes, I'm aware this was only supposed to be three parts. grins However, I felt Harry and Ron had some issues they needed to work out before their plans for marriage moved ahead. And since our boys are a bit stubborn, it took over 6,000 words for them to work it out.

Thank you to all of you who reviewed!

* * *

**_The Counter Proposal_**

Monday morning's recruitment meeting had Ron feeling extremely edgy. The Cannons urgently needed a talented Chaser to replace the one that they had lost to a permanent injury the previous season. The prior week, scouts had paraded several potential Chasers past the coaches, putting the recruits through day after day of rigorous try-outs. By the end of the week, all of the coaches had agreed that none of the players were what they needed.

The recruiting process was the only part of his job that Ron hated. It was his third season and he still didn't feel comfortable recommending to his superiors which players wouldn't make the cut. He didn't think that he merited the right to judge someone else's abilities when he knew he wouldn't meet the same standards. Deep down, he didn't believe that he deserved the Assistant Coach position. His success during the last three seasons proved (to himself more than to others) that he had the talent. It was the reality that if he _wasn't the-boy-who-helped-the-boy-who-lived-defeat-he-who-must-not-be-named _then he wouldn't have been given the chance to interview for the job in the first place.

The thought of having to sift through and discard another group of players plunged Ron into a foul mood. When the meeting went past lunch without a resolution in sight, Ron decided to take a stand and voice his opinion. He spoke up and blatantly accused the recruiters of not doing their job properly by depending on the scouts to find inexperienced players rather than trying to persuade confirmed talent from other teams to join the Cannons. The majority of the coaches agreed with him and the conversation quickly turned into a heated debate.

When Ron and their most successful recruiter, Harlow Rodgers, came close to exchanging blows, Head Coach McNamara swiftly ended the meeting. He instructed everyone to go home, cool off, and come back in the morning. Ron stormed out of the room and into his office before he said something that he would later regret.

Coach McNamara followed him to his office and closed the door. "Is there anything you want to talk about?"

"Yeah! Training starts in two weeks and we need a Chaser!" responded Ron furiously.

"No." McNamara shook his head. "I meant is something else going on? Has anyone been giving you a hard time about your _situation_?"

"Situation?" Ron asked, raising his eyebrows. "I don't understand. What situation?"

"You know… Your _situation_… with Potter." McNamara diverted his eyes to the ceiling.

Ron gripped the edge of his desk so hard his knuckles turned white. "S-s-situation? Situation? Is that what you call it?"

"Weasley, you know what I mean."

"Yeah, I know what you mean." Ron yanked his cloak from the back of his chair and stomped towards the door.

"Ron, stop!" McNamara ordered.

Ron halted, but didn't turn to face his superior.

"I didn't mean to offend you," McNamara explained. "I suspected something was going on between Potter and you long before the Daily Prophet publicized it. I don't have an issue with it."

Ron spun around on his heels. "Then what _is_ the issue?"

"I thought maybe that altercation in the meeting between you and Rodgers had something to do with your -" he paused, appearing to choose his words carefully,"- private life."

"What? What would Rodgers not doing his job have to do with…" The realization of what McNamara was trying to say finally struck Ron. "Ah, I get it now. Rodgers is the one with the problem. Isn't he?"

"He's had a few things to say on the subject," confessed McNamara. "I thought maybe you had overheard him or someone told you."

Ron gulped down the harsh words biting at his tongue. "No, sir. I was not aware."

"Okay, Weasley. I just want to make sure we all keep things on a professional level here. We have a lot of work to be done this season and -"

"_And_ I think its Rodgers you need to be speaking with – not me!" exploded Ron.

"Leave the dealings with him to me. I'm speaking to you." McNamara softened the tone in his voice, but his face was full of tension. "Ron, I can't assure you that Rodgers is the only one that objects to your relationship, or that you won't hear other's opinions on the matter. I'm asking you to ignore it. Confronting these people will only damage your professional relationships. You have a very promising career ahead of you; _very_ promising. I'd hate to see you throw it all away because you get into a row each time you hear someone say something derogatory about your lifestyle."

Ron gaped at his boss in disbelief. "So, I'm not supposed to defend myself?"

"That's not what I'm saying. It will be a challenge to find a way to deal with it professionally." McNamara's face relaxed and he added, "But I'm sure you'll find a way, mate."

"_My_ opinion on Rodgers' job has nothing to do with _his_ opinion on my personal life. I want to make that clear," Ron said forcefully

"Noted," McNamara said. "I'm sorry to have kept you. Go home. I'll see you in the morning."

McNamara left and Ron stood still, feeling like he was rooted to the spot. He was too stunned to process what had just happened. He knew he could be thick sometimes, but he had truly been blindsided by the knowledge that his peers were talking behind his back.

Ron's fury started as a small spark in the pit of his stomach. Then like tentacles spreading out in different directions, it crawled its way through his insides until his entire body was shaking from rage.

He heard voices in the hall drawing closer to his open office door. Afraid to face anyone in the state he was in, he withdrew his wand from his sleeve and Disapparated.

He appeared in his backyard and was startled to see Harry sitting on their garden bench.

"Ron!" cried Harry in surprise. "What are you doing home?"

"Meeting ended early," Ron grumbled as he stalked off into the house.

With a worried look, Harry stood up and followed him though the house into the kitchen. "Who pissed in your pumpkin juice?"

"Bloody hell." Ron kicked the wall. "That daft pillock!"

"Who? What's going on?" Harry asked hurriedly.

Ron was huffing and pacing around the kitchen. "Rodgers!"

"The Cannons' recruiter?"

"Yeah, that's the fuckwit!"

"Er, okay. What about him?"

"We got into a row over the recruits. I told him that I thought he was doing a crap job." Ron's hands were waving madly in the air. "Then McNamara comes into my office and asks me if I have an issue with Rodgers because I overheard him slagging me off?"

"Slagging you off? About what?"

Ron stopped pacing and stared at his lover. "What do you think?"

"Us," Harry responded in a croaky whisper.

Ron's rage flowed through him and he needed to start moving again. "That bastard! He has no right. Him of all blokes! Married with a baby on the way and everyone knows he tries to bang every witch that comes to the pitch looking for autographs. Yet he thinks he has the right to judge me!"

"What did McNamara say about it?"

"He said that I –" Ron poked his chest several times "– have to find a way to deal with it without it affecting my professional relationships! Me! Not that blathering idiot!"

"I knew this would happen," Harry whispered hoarsely.

Ron quit pacing and stared at Harry. "What?"

"I knew this would happen," he repeated. "I knew something like this would happen because we stirred everything up."

"You think this is _our_ fault?"

"Yes… No! I mean… it's not our fault, but if we hadn't -"

"Hadn't what? Gone into that cloakroom?"

"We should've just let it go. After the picture. We could've denied it."

Ron shook his head in angry disbelief. "And then what, Harry, go into hiding? Or maybe I could've married Hermione and you could've married Ginny and we _all_ could've put on a nice show for everybody. One big happy Weasley family – except it would all be lie."

"This isn't funny," Harry said in a grave tone. "You could lose your job. You _love_ your job."

"I _love_ you more," Ron said decisively. "But that doesn't seem to matter."

"Of course it matters," Harry said resolutely. "But we can be with each other without throwing it in everyone's face."

"Throwing it in everyone's face!" repeated Ron, shooting Harry an incredulous look. "What did we do that was so horrible? Except say the truth! That we love each other!"

"But it's going to do nothing but cause problems," Harry said meekly.

Harry's words sliced Ron's fury wide open. "Is that what you think? That our relationship causes problems!"

"I-I d-didn't m-mean -" Harry stammered.

"I know what you meant!" Ron fumed as he stared defiantly at Harry. "It's not only the cloakroom you didn't wish happened! It was agreeing to marry me! That's what you think started all this! Don't deny it!"

"You're being ridiculous!" Harry yelled back, equaling the volume in Ron's voice.

Ron looked startled. After a brief hesitation, he retorted, "Am not. You really don't care about getting married. You never did!"

"Things were fine the way they were," Harry said stubbornly.

"Fine? No, they weren't fine! I hated lying all the time about why I wasn't dating. I hated when I had to listen while our mates went on about all the birds that thought you were fit. I wanted them to know that you were with _me_."

"So that's what's so important to you? You want everyone to know that you are the _famous_ Harry Potter's boyfriend!" Harry screamed, his eyes flashing in anger.

His lover's words stung Ron so harshly that he stumbled backwards.

"Ron, I -"

With his fists clenched in fury, Ron took a step back further away from Harry. "You what? Don't want to get married? That's fine with me! We'll tell everyone it was a big joke and the laugh is on me!"

At first, Ron was confused as to why, rather than responding, Harry was fumbling in his back pocket. When the realization of what Harry was doing dawned on him, Ron reached out to grab his arm, but it was too late. Ron's fingers clutched at empty air.

"Dammit!" Ron shouted, kicking the wall again. "It's not like I don't know where you went!" he screamed at the spot where Harry had disappeared from seconds before.

* * *

Molly Weasley was sitting on her sofa, knitting her husband a jumper for his birthday, when she simultaneously heard a crack coming from the front lawn and the chime of her magical grandfather clock. The most recent addition to the clock was moving from _Home_ to _The Burrow_. She had asked her husband to add a hand for her youngest son's boyfriend the minute she found out they were together.

She waited for Ron's hand to move to match Harry's and when it didn't, she casually stood up and went over to the window. Peering out through the slits in the lace curtains, she spotted a troubled-looking Harry stalking through the lawn to the garden.

Shaking her head, she mumbled, "Oh, dear. Gnomes of the world beware."

* * *

Hermione's work as a researcher for St. Mungo's Department of Advanced Medicinal Spells allowed her the luxury of working from home. She had a small office at the hospital, but her own library of reference material was more extensive than the resources at St. Mungo's. The quiet was another benefit. At the hospital, someone was always rushing down the hallways. Visitors would get lost and wander into her office looking for directions. Hermione liked to work free of distractions.

The only sounds that could be heard while Hermione worked were the rustling of pages being turned, a quill working feverishly over parchment, or the occasional cry of triumph when she uncovered something new. So when a voice calling her name echoed through the halls of her home, the unexpected sound caused her to jump and shriek in surprise.

When voice called out her name a second time, she recognized it as belonging to Mrs. Weasley. She knew it had to be coming from the kitchen fireplace because her wards hadn't alerted her to a visitor. Her first instinct was to think the worst so she bolted from her seat and dashed to the kitchen.

Mrs. Weasley's plump face was smiling warmly at Hermione as she anxiously entered the room.

"Is everything okay?" she asked hurriedly.

"No one is in mortal peril," Mrs. Weasley said convincingly. "It's _our_ boys. Looks like they've hit a bit of a rough patch."

"Oh?"

"Ron is home and Harry is in the garden again."

"Oh! It must be bad. He hasn't done that since -"

"Since they captured the last remaining Death Eater and Ron was away with the Cannons."

"Did you read the Daily Prophet this morning?" inquired Hermione.

"Yes," Mrs. Weasley responded solemnly. "I'm sure this has something to do with it. I'll tidy up things at this end. If you're not too busy…"

"No. I could use a break."

"Are you sure, dear? I know how important your work is. Ron is always going on about how St. Mungo's wouldn't know what to do without you."

"Really?" blushed Hermione. She didn't think that Ron ever listened to her when she spoke about her work.

"Yes. Harry, too."

Hermione glanced at the clock. "It's almost dinnertime. I'll pick up some takeaway."

"Good. Be gentle. From the look on Harry's face –" she paused and Hermione saw her turn her head, straining to look at something "- and from the way he's chucking gnomes out of the garden, I'd say this was more than a petty quarrel."

"I will, Mrs. Weasley," Hermione said resolutely. "Good luck," she quickly added.

Mrs. Weasley turned back to face her. "You too!" She replied and then disappeared.

Hermione took a moment to gather her thoughts. Since the sudden and raw exposure of Harry and Ron's relationship, she had expected something like this to happen. From her experience dealing with her two best friends, she knew their emotions ran deep – too deep - so deep that they didn't know how to handle them when they reached the surface.

She knew that this was as serious as it had ever been. Harry and Ron never argued so bitterly that Harry was worked up enough to go after the gnomes. If Ron didn't follow straight away, then that would mean he was in a right state as well.

She didn't envy Mrs. Weasley's task. As far as Hermione was concerned, she was getting off easy. Ron was a pussycat to deal with compared to Harry. Ron was all about kicking and screaming foul words at the top of his voice, but that made him more of an open book. After Harry's bout of teenage rage, he had settled into a comfortable method of internalizing any bad feelings and sinking into brooding moods. If you tried to confront him, his best defense mechanism would kick in. He would use his penetrating green eyes to bore into you with a forlorn look that said _'I've suffered enough - why are you harassing me?_' And if that didn't work, he would flee.

Glancing at the clock, she decided she had better get to Ron before his feelings of guilt festered into something unmanageable.

"A good shag isn't going to resolve this!" she said resolutely to herself.

Hermione had decided enough was enough and if these two were going to spend the rest of their lives together, then they had better learn how to deal with their problems like rational mature adults.

* * *

Four times Ron had drawn his wand to Disapparate to The Burrow and then changed his mind. He was on his fifth try when someone knocked on the front door.

Confused, he looked around the kitchen as if someone was there to explain it to him. The only time anyone had knocked on their front door was when Hermione had brought her parents over for a visit.

He headed for the door, but then stopped when it occurred to him that it might be a reporter or a lost Muggle.

"Ron, it's me. Open the door," a female voice called through the closed door.

"Hermione?"

"Yes, Ronald," Hermione answered impatiently.

Ron unlocked and opened the door. Hermione, carrying a bag in her arm, shoved past him.

"Why'd you come this way?" he asked.

"I've got takeaway. I hate traveling the floo with food. Dust and sot get all over it. I Apparated onto the lawn."

Ron followed her silently into the kitchen and stood in the doorway, watching her gather utensils and glasses. The latter she filled with fresh pumpkin juice she had retrieved out of the refrigerator.

"Sit," she ordered. "I figured you would be easier to talk to if you weren't hungry." She opened the containers and pushed one in front of him. "Tuck in. Then we'll talk."

Ron took a few bites of food. Uncharacteristically, he didn't have much of an appetite, but he knew Hermione would nag relentlessly until he ate something.

After a swallowing a few mouthfuls, he put his fork down and looked at his friend. "Mum?"

She nodded in confirmation.

"So, he is there?" he asked, draining his glass of pumpkin juice to avoid meeting her eyes.

"You know he is."

"Nutter," he mumbled. "Any normal bloke would go off to have a few pints with his mates. Mine de-gnomes gardens!"

"If your mum leaves him long enough, he'll clean the shed for her too," she joked.

Despite his rotten mood, the thought of Harry's idiosyncrasies made him grin. "A nutter, that one is," Ron repeated in a much lighter tone.

"Tell me what happened," she insisted.

Ron leaned back in his chair and sighed. He started at the beginning and was amazed at the restraint Hermione showed while he recounted the morning's events at the Cannons meeting. Even if it took her biting her bottom lip until it was blood red, she said nothing.

"I don't know what happened, Hermione," Ron said pitifully. "I was really angry with Rodgers and McNamara. Harry was just listening and somehow it turned into a conversation about us." Ron leaned his elbows on the table and rested his forehead in his palms. "He doesn't want to marry me," he whispered miserably.

"Oh, Ron, of course he does," she said consolingly.

His fists crashed down on the table. "No, he doesn't!" He stopped for a second to collect himself. He was angry, but he knew taking it out on Hermione was futile. He took a long dramatic breath, inhaling through his nose and exhaling out his mouth. In a softer voice, he continued, "He said as much. Said we should've kept quiet. Denied our relationship after it went public."

"He does," she persisted. "I was there – remember?"

"He just got caught up in the moment. What was he going to say? He only said yes because he didn't want to hurt my feelings."

"I didn't mean when you proposed," she explained. "I was there for it all." She waved her hands in a broad circle. "I watched the two of you fall in love. I watched as both of you figured it out. And I saw how happy the two of you were when you realized you felt the same way about each other. Loving you is easy for Harry. It's just the outside influences that are hard for him."

"I don't know how he could… I mean… I could never…"

"Never what, Ron?" she prodded, placing a hand on his balled-up fist.

"I could never deny that I love him. Not telling people is different than lying about it."

Hermione wedged her fingers between his until he relaxed and linked them together.

"He loves you. You know that." Her other hand went to his chin and she gently pulled his face up to look at her. "You do know that?"

"Yes," he answered in a low voice.

"Harry got upset because you were so upset. You normally don't let yourself get like that around him."

"I know. I shouldn't have –"

"Bloody hell you should have!" she scolded, clutching his hand firmly. "You have every right to get just as angry and upset… and frightened… and every other unpleasant emotion that Harry does! It's not right that you have to walk around on eggshells. You have feelings, too."

"It's different. He's… He's Harry! He's been through so much!"

"I am well aware of what Harry has been through _and_ all of the things that you went through. Ron, you need to learn to go through tough times - _together_. It shouldn't be _you_ coddling Harry all the time, trying to shelter him from the bad things. They are going to happen anyway. No matter what you do."

"It's not that easy," Ron replied despairingly.

"You have to try. You can't spend the rest of your life hiding all of your negative emotions because it might send Harry into one of his moods."

"Easier said then done! Look at what happened today!"

"Today probably had a lot more to do with that article in the Prophet than it did with your problem."

"Article? What article?" Ron asked, frowning slightly.

"You didn't read it?"

"No," he said, standing and frantically looking around the kitchen for the paper. "I got up late and rushed right into the meeting."

"Hold on," she said, rummaging in the large satchel that she always carried with her. She dug out a copy of the paper in question. "I have it right here."

Ron reached over for it, but she pulled it back possessively to her chest. "Promise me that you're not going to go mental over this," she begged. "It's rubbish. Skeeter is only out for revenge because your interviews weren't with her."

"Hermione, give it to me," Ron demanded. Hermione didn't budge, so he said. "Okay, I promise."

She looked leery while she placed it in his outstretched hand. "Page four," she said in an anxious tone. Hastily, she added, "See. It didn't even make the front cover. Like I said, its pure rubbish."

Ron read the title of the article aloud. "_The Wizarding Family Association Strikes Back_." He looked back up at Hermione. "Huh?"

"Read it."

"_Gay relationships are an abomination on our society and the eventual extinction of the magical race_!" he quoted and immediately slammed the paper on the table. "I've read enough," he said in disgust, his stomach twisting in knots.

"Rubbish, it is," she stated again.

"These people are serious!"

"The lot of them are nothing but a bunch of ignorant, close-minded, evil people!" Hermione fumed.

"Rich, powerful, important people," Ron pointed out. "That, according to this _rubbish_, have a meeting with the Minister of Magic on Friday. Something Ben hasn't been able to do!"

"I talked to Ben about that this morning. And… um, Ron, the Minister will only take a meeting with us if Harry requests it."

Ron groaned and shook his head sullenly. "Oh bugger, that's not good." He grabbed the paper and reread the words he had quoted earlier. "Bloody fucking hell, Hermione, what did I get us into?"

* * *

As Molly Weasley approached Harry, he was standing perfectly still behind an old large oak tree, staring at the woods beyond the garden. Suppressing a giggle when she saw the stone cold look of determination on his face, she lightly tapped his shoulder, causing him to jump in surprise.

"I'm sorry, Harry," she said politely. "I didn't mean to startle you."

"S'okay, Mrs. Weasley," Harry said inattentively as he turned back towards his watch.

"I have dinner on the table." She took a hold of his elbow and gently directed him towards the house. "Come along, now."

"B-but they'll just…" Harry turned back towards the garden. "They'll just sneak back in."

"Yes, dear," she said, patting his hand soothingly. "I'm certain they will. They always do."

Reluctantly, Harry followed her through the yard, looking back over his shoulder every few steps. As they drew closer to the house, dinner could be smelled wafting through the open windows. Harry's stomach growled loud enough for her to hear it.

"It's your favorite," she said.

"Shepard's pie?" he asked disbelievingly.

"Yes," she replied brightly. "Arthur is working late tonight, so it's just you and I. I hope you don't mind."

"Where's Ginny?"

"Off with her friends, I suppose. I don't know why she bothers to come home at all anymore." Molly raised her eyes pretending to be deep in thought. "Oh wait, yes I do. Her dirty laundry!"

Harry looked like he was attempting a smile, but had forgotten how to do it properly. Molly groaned inwardly. Harry had clearly placed himself into an '_I don't deserve happiness'_ mood. This was going to be more difficult than she thought. She would have to be blunt, she decided. Attack him head on. Anything less would give him a chance to run. After she fed him properly.

With his shoulders slouched, Harry ate his food as if he felt guilty for doing something that might cause him any joy. Molly hadn't seen him in a mood like this for years. It wasn't surprising to her that his emotional wounds would reopen during such a delicate time. Fixing it all in one night was impossible. She only hoped she could patch him up enough to send him home to Ron without any further damage being done.

When he stopped eating and starting playing with his food, she pounced. "You do know that those people are utter idiots?"

"Uh?" he asked, looking up from his task of making a mountain out of his mashed potatoes.

"That organization – The Wizarding Family Association," she clarified. "No one really takes them seriously. The general public doesn't feel that way. The group is filled with people like the Knotts and Malfoys. Do you really think the Ministry is going to side with people whose families are filled with dark wizards?"

"Those families already hated us. This just gives them another reason," he said, his face expressionless.

"You have more power than they do. You just have to use it. Arthur says that the Minister has been quiet until you request a meeting with him."

"I figured as much," he said flatly. "It doesn't matter now."

"What doesn't matter?" she asked, staring pointedly.

Harry half-shrugged and went back to picking at his food.

"Harry Potter, I asked you a question," Molly said sternly.

He pushed his plate out of the way and folded his hands on the table. "Ron thinks I don't want to marry him."

"Is he right?" she probed.

"No," he said unconvincingly.

Molly raised an eyebrow. "He's wrong. Are you sure?"

"I want to spend the rest of my life with him. Of course, I would want to marry him. I just don't want that to ruin our lives outside of our relationship."

"It won't be easy. Harry, you must've known that. You didn't think you could keep your relationship a secret forever. Did you?"

"No," he sighed. "But I didn't think people would want us to have us banished from the magical world!"

"It's horrible, I know. They also don't think Muggle-borns should be allowed wands or werewolves or half-giants…. And I seem to remember a certain someone fighting for the rights of all of his friends. Isn't it about time you fight for your own rights?"

"They're going to force us to make choices." He stood up and moved to look at the window. "The Head Coach of the Cannons talked to Ron about it today. Told him that Ron was going to have to find a way to deal with it. And what if that group gets their way and the Ministry decides to outlaw gay relationships? We'd have to decide if we want to stay together or go live as Muggles. I don't know if Ron could… How could he choose to leave his life?"

"Oh, Harry," Molly said in a pained voice. Hastily, she rose and went to him. Placing a gentle hand on his shoulder, she said, "Ron would choose you. Every time!"

"Even if that's true… I wouldn't want him to," Harry said bleakly. "I want him to be able to coach for the Cannons and to go to the The Leaky Cauldron with Fred and George to get pissed on their birthdays. I want him to be able to buy his favorite ice cream at Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor. I want him to be able to do all the things he loves. I don't want him to have to give all of that up because of me!"

"None of that would matter if he didn't have you," Molly said assuredly. "Wouldn't you do it for him?"

"In a heartbeat," Harry responded quickly.

After a hasty internal deliberation, she made a decision to stick her nose further into the situation than she already had. "Sit down, Harry. I want to tell you something." Harry obeyed as she returned to her own seat. "I thought you should know that Ron has a back-up plan for all of the reasons he thought you might want to leave him."

"What?" he asked sharply.

"Right before you moved in together. He thought of all the reasons why you would want to leave him and found an answer for all of them."

"Reasons I would want to leave him," he repeated incredulously. "He… why…how could he think that… What were the reasons?"

"Children. That one really had him flustered. He thought you might decide that you wanted to have a family. So, he asked Ginny if she would be a surrogate. Is that the word?" Harry nodded and she continued, "Hermione told him about it. She offered too. Sweet girl, that Hermione. But Ron thought it would be nice if it had both of your genes."

"I-I…"

She spoke over Harry's stuttering. "Ginny said yes. Even though I don't know how that girl could carry a baby with the way she runs around with those friends of hers!"

Her words had appeared to knock the wind out of him. He rested his chin on his chest and took a gulp of breath before he asked, "And the other reasons?"

"Conflicting schedules seemed to be the second issue he could foresee. With him traveling with the Cannons and you with the England team, he was afraid that your time apart might cause a rift between you. That one was easy. He asked Fred and George if they would hire him if that happened and he had to leave his coaching position. Working for the twins would only be temporary, so he talked to Madam Hooch and found out that she plans on retiring in five years. He asked her to give him the heads up so he could apply for the job early."

Shaking his head disbelieving, Harry yelled. "Quit the Cannons? He thought I'd ask him to quit the Cannons?"

Molly ignored his outburst, allowing him his frustration. "No, dear. Don't you understand? You wouldn't have to _ask_ him do it – he would _want_ to do it. For you. For your relationship."

"I'm a prat," groaned Harry. "A right prat!"

"Good. Then you and my son are perfect for each other because he's a prat for not telling you these things himself."

"I said loads of terrible stuff." He stood up suddenly, banging his knees on the table. He picked up his plate. "I have to go. I'll help you clean up and then…"

"It's okay. I have this," she said, taking the plate from him. "Will you do me a favor?" Without waiting for an answer, she explained, "There is a box of Ron's things in his room that he left here. Arthur found them in the attic. Will you bring them home with you?"

"Sure, sure," he replied anxiously, heading for the stairs.

When Harry was out of sight, Molly breathed a sigh of relief. She picked up the plates and headed for the sink. Passing by the window, something moving caught her eye. She stopped and peered out onto the lawn. Running back into the garden was a gnome, followed closely by a second one. Molly knew a third and fourth would soon follow and before the night was over, the garden would be returned to normal.

* * *

Standing in Ron's room flooded Harry's mind with pleasant memories. The room looked almost exactly as it had the first time Harry walked into it. Gone was the frog spawn, and the players in the posters weren't waving as enthusiastically as they had many years ago, but it was still too small and entirely too orange.

The box Mrs. Weasley told him about was on the bed. The lid to the box was open and Harry glanced inside. Sitting on top of Ron's old school robe was a picture of Harry, Ron, and Hermione, depicting them on the night of their leaving feast from Hogwarts. Hermione was in the middle with both boys' arms around her waist. Ron was tickling her and she was wriggling frantically, trying to break free from his grasp. Harry was helping to keep her still, but his eyes never left Ron. Looking at himself, he felt an odd lump develop in his throat. He had seen the picture dozens of time before. Yet, he had never noticed how bright and wide the smile was that he wore or how his eyes darted along Ron's face as if he was studying it, trying to memorize every detail on his face.

Pangs of guilt stabbed at his heart. He hated himself for the despicable thoughts that had plagued his brain while he was out in the garden. _'Why do I always have to be the freak? Why couldn't I have just been attracted to Hermione? It would've been so much easier.'_

There was no doubt in his mind or his heart that he loved Hermione. He loved both of them. But Ron was _Ron_. Ron was the one that made his insides swell with just a smile. He couldn't explain it or find a reason for why he had fallen for Ron and not Hermione. He just _had_, and now that he was back in his right mind, he knew that he wouldn't have wanted it to be any other way.

Harry picked up the box and went back downstairs. "Thanks, Mrs. Weasley," he said bounding into the kitchen. "Ron and I will be over for dinner on Sunday. Tell Mr. Weasley that I said hello."

Mrs. Weasley gave Harry two quick peck on the cheeks. "Give Ronald a kiss for me. And please, Harry, call me Molly."

"Again, thank you for everything… Molly," he said while withdrawing his wand from his pocket.

After a quick flick of his wrist, he was back in his own kitchen. Immediately, he noticed the quiet. He placed the box on the kitchen table and then went looking for Ron, hoping he hadn't taken off for The Leaky Cauldron or the twins' flat. He didn't have to go far. Ron was lying on the sofa in the living room, stretched out on his back with his feet hanging over the edge, apparently asleep. One arm dangled over the edge, his knuckles against the floor. His jaw was relaxed and soft snores escaped from his parted lips. Looking at Ron, all of Harry's fears disappeared and he felt that familiar warm glow inside of him.

Harry walked over to the sofa and knelt on the floor next the sleeping man. He studied Ron's face as he tenderly brushed the hair away from his face. Harry would bet that even with his eyes closed, he could draw every freckle on Ron's face.

He readjusted himself so that he was sitting on his hip. "I'm sorry," he said quietly.

"Harry," Ron mumbled sleepily and rolled over on his side facing Harry.

"Yeah. Who else would it be?"

Ron's eyes shot open. "Harry!"

"Hi," Harry replied while pushing Ron back down as he tried to sit up.

"I'm sorry. I must've fallen asleep. Hermione was here and she brought curry and I just laid down while I was waiting for you. I don't know how long I was asleep. Did you just get back? Did my Mum give you something to eat? Oh, wait that's a dumb question."

Harry's grin had grown wider and wider as he listened to Ron babble on. "I just got back."

"Oh…" Ron replied sheepishly. "Listen, Harry, I'm really sor –"

"Don't. Please, don't," Harry pleaded softly. "You have nothing to be sorry for. I'm the one that is sorry."

"No! I didn't know about the article. If I did, I wouldn't have come here yelling and screaming like I did."

"Seriously, Ron. Please, don't apologize. I want you to be able to talk to me about things like that. I'm the one that overreacted." Harry paused, lowering his eyes. "You needed me and I was being selfish."

Ron raised himself up and rested the side of his face in his palm. "I would've been upset about that article, too. It was horrible. Those people –"

"Don't matter," Harry finished.

Ron's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "What'd my Mum do to you over there?"

"Just fed me and we talked." Another skeptical look from Ron made Harry elaborate. "Okay, so they do matter. But then they really don't either. I know I'm not making any sense. What I'm trying to say is that I can ignore it. I won't let my fears come between us."

"Harry," Ron began, leaning over and picking up one of Harry's hands in his own. "We don't have to get married. I'm happy – very happy – just the way things are."

"I know we don't. I'm very happy, too." Harry covered Ron's hand with his free one. Leaning his head to rest against Ron's chest, he said, "I'm so sorry for what I said earlier. I know that it's not true. I don't know why I said it."

"I know," Ron whispered.

"Ron." Harry lifted his head to look at him. "I love you so much. You make me happy. Seeing you happy makes me happy. I love that you're so energized about your coaching. I'm happier when I see the Cannons Chasers carry out a brilliant play that I know was one of yours, than I do when I catch the Snitch. I always buy those chocolate frogs because I love to watch you eat them. You get the same excited look on your face that you got that first day I met you on the train. I love how little things like that make you happy. I love when you come home from a night out with your brothers and you're pissed and randy. And I love that you care about me so much that you'd give all of it up if you had to. I want to spend the rest of my life with you and I'll do whatever that takes to do it."

"Harry, you don't have to. It's not too late to –"

"Shut up. You're ruining the moment," Harry said teasingly. "I'm trying to ask you to marry me."

"You are?" Ron said innocently.

"Yes, I am. It is too late because it's what I want more than anything in the world. So, will you? Will you marry me?"

Ron's face lit up like a Christmas tree. "Of course I will… you prat."

Briefly, Harry shared a silent exchange with Ron. They didn't need to say more. They had already said more than they had in years.

"That's settled then," Harry said, standing up. He attempted to squeeze between the back of the couch and Ron. "Budge over."

After several shifting of limbs, Harry found a comfortable position. It was an unusual perspective for him lying with Ron in his arms rather than the other way around.

"We've got a bed for this," Ron said playfully.

"I like this. I like lying by the fire," Harry replied, staring at the reflecting color of the flames dancing on the side of Ron's face and hair.

"Yeah, it's nice," Ron agreed.

"It was a long day. Tomorrow you'll go back to the Cannons and prove to Rodgers and McNamara that you're the bigger person and the best bleedin' coach they have," Harry said intensely. Quieter, he added, "Now, we sleep."

Ron pulled Harry's arm tighter around his body and murmured a sound of contented agreement.

With his arms full of Ron, Harry found the first peace of his day and easily drifted off to sleep.

_**End of Part Four**_

**_TBC..._**


	5. The Wedding

**_The Wedding_**

Stiff and aching from sleeping on the sofa, Ron sauntered slowly to the bedroom. Moments before, he had successfully extracted himself from the couch without waking Harry up. Once he got to the bedroom, he checked his watch. He had almost two hours before he was due at his meeting, which was just enough time to take care of something first.

Ron was near delirious with anticipation. His idea to resolve the issue at the Cannons had come to him in a dream and he couldn't believe that he hadn't thought of it earlier. He got ready with only one thing on his mind - to show both McNamara and Rodgers that he was the best thing that had happened to the Cannons in decades.

After he showered and dressed, he scribbled a short note to Harry telling him about his idea. Thinking that maybe he couldn't pull off his plan in time, he decided to send an owl to McNamara. This note was cryptic and he hoped it was just enough to avoid trouble if he showed up late without anything to show for it.

Quietly, he entered the living room. Harry had stretched out on the couch and was still snoring softly. Not wanting to wake him, but unable to resist some sort of farewell, Ron leaned over and lightly grazed his lips on Harry's forehead. He told himself it was for luck. He crept back to the kitchen to Disapparate, hoping it wasn't too early in the morning to drop in to see someone unexpectedly.

* * *

Harry thought he was going to go mad waiting for Ron to get home. Since he had stumbled groggily into the kitchen that morning and discovered Ron's note, he was beside himself waiting to find out if Ron's scheme had worked.

Needing to take care of a few plans of his own had kept him busy most of the morning. But the afternoon was uneventful and left him with nothing to do except dwell on the big risks both of them had taken in the same day.

By a quarter to five, Harry was trying to decide if he was going to throttle Ron for not sending an owl earlier or pretend to be nonchalant about the whole situation just incase it hadn't worked out. In his nervousness, he kept switching from the chair to the sofa and back to the chair again.

Finally, Harry heard the familiar pop of Apparation in the kitchen, signaling that Ron was home. Hastily, he flung himself on the sofa and picked up a book. He sat there as casually as possible, pretending to be engrossed in what he was reading.

Ron's footsteps grew nearer. Harry's curiosity got the best of him. As Ron entered the living room, he glanced up, mentally preparing himself for the worst. One look was all that it took to know exactly how everything went.

"You did it!" Harry exclaimed, jumping up and dropping his book on the floor.

"Correct!" Ron confirmed, his face beaming with pride.

"I can't believe it! You got Katherine to leave the Harpies!"

"Correct, again!"

"I knew it!" Harry said, pumping his fist in the air. "I knew you would pull it off! Tell me all about it! Was Rodgers foaming at the mouth because he was so angry? What did McNamara say? How did you approach her?"

"I'll tell you all about it. But first, I'm starved. Let's go into the kitchen, so I can make a sandwich."

Harry rushed past Ron into the kitchen. "I'll make it for you. You talk. First how did you know she was interested?"

Ron jumped up and sat on the counter as Harry began gathering the necessary ingredients for a sandwich. "Right before I started talking to Archie at Ben's party, I was talking to Maggie and Katherine. I went over there to thank Maggie for the excellent interviews she did. Katherine asked me what I thought about the Chaser's new coach - you know, the one they hired at the start of last season - and I was completely honest. I said that most of the strategies were recycled from Puddlemere's championship year, and she actually agreed. Confidentially, of course. Then she slipped and said she hadn't renewed her contact since it expired at the end of last season. I had suspected that she was having issues with the way management was running things."

With his head in the refrigerator, searching for the mustard, Harry asked, "So, you just walked up to her front door this morning and knocked?"

"Yes, sir. Pretty brazen of me, I know. I was upfront and honest about the situation and she seemed really cool about it. She made coffee and we talked. I told her my ideas for new strategies and training techniques. She was excited, I could tell. But she was trying to hide it. She's slick, that one. She held out for a great deal!"

"Stop!" Harry interrupted without lifting his head from the task of piling meat onto to a piece of bread. "You're getting ahead of the story. So, she liked your ideas."

"She said she did and agreed to go to the Cannons with me to listen to what McNamara had to say."

"I wish I could have been there to see McNamara's face when you walked in with her!" Harry said earnestly, handing Ron a large sandwich.

Ron took an oversized bite out of his sandwich. "Ee wuh eh swok!"

"I bet he was! Rodgers had to be even more in shock!"

Ron bobbed his head vigorously, taking another mouthful of sandwich. "Mumpfh!"

"Did they let you sit in during the negotiations?"

Swallowing his food in a noisy gulp, Ron nodded again. "Katherine – by the way, I _love_ that woman – demanded that I sit in on them! She made it perfectly clear that _I_ was the only reason she would ever consider signing with the Cannons. Rodgers was … there are no words to describe how pissed off he was." Pointing at the bread, Ron asked, "Aren't you going to eat?"

"No. I'm too excited. How long did she sign for?"

"Five years! The longest contract we've ever signed."

"Brilliant, Ron. Just brilliant!"

"Thank you. It still won't change Rodgers opinion that I'm a perverted poof, but at least now I'm a perverted poof with –" Ron rummaged in his back pocket and pulled out a slip of paper. Grinning madly, he unfolded it and handed it to Harry. " – his recruiter's bonus!"

Harry's eyes widen and he stared at the paper in his hand. "Blimey… Ron, this is a Gringott's bank note for fifteen thousand galleons!"

Grabbing Harry by the waist, Ron spread his legs and pulled him between them. "McNamara said I deserved it for bringing in the best Chaser the Cannons has ever had," he said proudly.

"You do deserve it," Harry said his voice filled with admiration. Wrapping his arms around Ron's neck, he said, "Looks like we have a reason to celebrate."

"Fifteen thousand and _one_ reasons to celebrate!" Ron corrected.

"What's the extra one?"

"You want to marry me," Ron said affectionately, ending his statement by giving Harry a long passionate kiss that made him tingle in all of the right places.

Harry broke away first and leaned his head back to look Ron in the face. "What are you going to do with the money?"

"I was thinking we could use it for a nice holiday. A honeymoon, perhaps?"

Harry pushed back his initial urge to disagree. He wanted Ron to spend the money on himself, but he knew Ron too well. Being able to finally contribute to something so costly would mean a great deal to him.

"I think that is a wonderful idea," Harry said. "And since you brought up the subject, I have some news of my own."

"Yeah," Ron said, cocking his head to the side.

"I requested a meeting with the Minister of Magic."

"You did?" Ron asked.

"I did."

"Harry, are you sure about this?" Ron asked somberly. "I know how hard it is for you… for you to talk to Fudge... after -"

"I was hoping you would go with us."

"Us?"

"Hermione and Ben will be coming too. It's Thursday morning. Ben thinks it's a good sign that it was scheduled before the meeting with the Wizarding Family Association."

"Sure. Of course, I'll be there," Ron said, pulling Harry into an embrace. "You know," he cleared his throat, "I think last night was the first night that we ever slept together in this house and didn't shag."

Snuggling against Ron's neck, Harry murmured, "I think you're right."

"Hermione would tell us it's a sign of maturity," Ron sniggered.

"Probably," Harry replied. Slowly, he kissed a trail from Ron's ear to the hollow of his throat. "I would say it means we have some catching up to do."

* * *

"Too easy," Harry repeated for the third time in a row. "I don't trust things that are that easy."

"Stop worrying, mate," Ben said. "More tea?"

Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ben were having lunch at a small cafe in Diagon Alley to celebrate the success of their meeting with the Minister. Harry had been voicing his concern since they left the Ministry building. Ron, appearing to be in shock, hadn't said much; Hermione was the one causing Harry to be concerned. About halfway through the short-lived meeting, Hermione clamed up and began eyeing Ben with a look of disgust.

"The meeting didn't last more than ten minutes," Hermione pointed out snidely. "All these years of waiting and it took him ten minutes to agree to put a law in affect allowing same sex couples to legally enter into the institution of marriage. We didn't even say anything on the subject. He did all the talking. I agree with Harry. I don't trust it."

"Sounds mighty suspicious to me, too," Ron commented. "And he only agreed to it if Harry and I stand by his side when he makes the announcement on Monday morning. Too easy – if you ask me."

"It didn't take ten minutes," Ben said testily. "It has taken decades. The Minister was on the fence, but leaning towards our side for a while now. I knew all it would take is having Harry on our side to make it worthwhile for the Minister to completely leap over the fence."

Harry opened his mouth to give a retort, but Hermione spoke up before a sound came out. "Harry didn't you and Ron say that you had to pick up some Quidditch supplies while you were here?"

"Er…" Harry looked at Ron, who just stared back blankly. "Er, yeah, I did. Ready, Ron?"

Surprisingly, Ron seemed to sense something was going on and didn't put up a fuss. "Um, yeah, I'm ready," Ron said, standing up. "Thanks for reminding me, Hermione. I forgot in all of the excitement." Harry beamed at him for adding such a nice touch to whatever game it was they were playing.

Harry stood up and dug in his pocket to offer money for the food, but Ben put his hand up. "I have it, Harry. Thank you again for your assistance this morning."

"Thank you," Harry replied sincerely.

Hermione made a loud '_tsk_' noise and sensing that it wasn't smart to linger, he grabbed Ron's elbow and swiftly led him out the door.

"What was that all about?" Ron asked as soon as they were outside.

"Dunno. But it looks bad, though."

"She'll tell us later." Ron looked at his watch. "It's time for me to get back to the Cannons. Last meeting before training starts in three weeks. I'm going to the Leaky to floo back. I'll see you later at home." He leaned down and kissed Harry on the cheek. Harry froze in stunned horror.

Ron narrowed his eyes. "Look around, Harry. The sky didn't fall down. No one is even looking at us. Wait! I'm wrong! There are two teenage girls over there blushing and giggling." Ron wrapped one arm around Harry's waist and pulled him so that Harry was flush against his hip. "They're looking because they think it's romantic," he said, leaning down and kissing Harry's lips this time.

The kiss was somewhere between chaste and making Harry weak in the knees. Harry felt himself blushing.

Breaking away, Ron grinned evilly at him. "See, the world didn't come crashing down."

"No, but now I'm randy. Thank you very much. And you're going back to work."

Ron patted Harry's arse, making him yelp in surprise. Laughing, Ron turned and left Harry standing there, too shocked to move.

* * *

Harry and Ron's entire dinner conversation was filled with plans for their wedding. Both agreed it would be small and private. Harry suggested having the ceremony and reception at The Burrow. Ron thought that maybe they could go somewhere outside of England. No final decision was reached for the location of the wedding, but they both agreed on the honeymoon destination – Greece.

Towards the end of dinner, Harry began looking anxious and Ron's heart dropped. "What's wrong?" he asked, hoping it wasn't because of their conversation that Harry was wearing a worried expression.

"Hermione," Harry said pensively. "We haven't heard from her since lunch. That's not like her."

"Let's floo over," suggested Ron.

"Okay."

Ron stood up and headed for the living room.

"Um, Ron," Harry called out. "Aren't you forgetting something?"

Ron turned and glared at Harry. "You're worse than my Mum."

"The food will stick to the plates if we don't wash them now. It just makes cleaning them harder."

Rolling his eyes, Ron picked up a plate and brought it to the sink. "Freak," he muttered affectionately.

"Yeah, but I'm your freak."

Stumbling out of the fireplace into a dark living room, Harry's first thought was that Hermione wasn't home.

Harry pulled out his wand and said, "Lumos." Just as Ron appeared in the fireplace behind him, the room lit up and Harry spotted Hermione sitting on the sofa surrounded by crumpled up tissues.

"Hermione?" Harry whispered, turning on a lamp.

"Hi," she sniffed.

Harry got a better look at her and knew she was distraught. Her hair was pulled into a ponytail on the top of her head, but she had missed several strands and they were sticking out from all sides. She had on a dressing gown and two different colored socks.

Ron shoved past Harry and loomed over Hermione with a furious look on his voice. "What'd he do to you, Hermione? Did that bastard dump you?"

"No," she said softly. "I ended the relationship."

"Then why are you crying?" Ron asked confused.

"Sit down, Ron," Harry said, sitting next to Hermione and putting a comforting hand on her knee. "What happened?"

"He was just using me to get to you," she sobbed.

"What?" Ron yelled, jumping up from the sitting position he had just taken.

"Sit down, Ron!" Harry commanded. "How do you know that? He seemed to really like you."

"He said he did really like me, but I figured it all out today. He denied it at first, of course. But then he admitted it."

"Admitted what?" asked Ron, still looking and sounding as if he could go off at any minute.

Harry glared at him wordlessly, telling him it was not what Hermione needed at the moment.

"Today at Cornelius Fudge's office. There was something not right." She stopped to blow her nose. "I saw Ben and Fudge exchange these knowing glances. Then when we were leaving, Ben winked at him. He thought no one was looking. After you left, I confronted him about it. He swore I imagined it."

Harry chuckled. Hermione didn't imagine things. She was too logical for that.

Hermione continued, her voice becoming steadier as spoke. "I persisted and he admitted that Fudge had told him right after your relationship was exposed that he would sign the law, but _only_ if Harry was involved. Fudge wanted to make sure that he had the majority support. If he was going to do it, it was going to have political motivations behind it. I was appalled that all of the things the two of you were put through were also to dig up support for Fudge!"

"It wasn't just for Fudge. The new marriage law will go into effect and that's a good thing. I don't care if it will help Fudge, too," Harry said honestly.

"Yes," she agreed. "But it was underhanded. Quid pro quo he kept saying." She deepened her voice to sound like Ben, "Quid pro quo, Hermione, that's the way it is. That's what you have to do to change things around here."

"Well, I think he is right about that," admitted Ron. "I still don't understand where the _using you_ part comes in?"

"Don't you see, Ron? Ben had this conversation _before_ he and I met. He purposely sought me out because I was your friend. He knew he couldn't just approach the two of you and ask. You would've said no and that would've been the end of it."

Harry and Ron both nodded.

"But how did he seek you out? How did you meet?" asked Ron. "You never told us."

"You never asked," she said scolding.

"Good point," Ron said. Both men mumbled, "S'ry."

"It's fine. Really," she sighed. "A lot was going on. Ben showed up at a werewolf's rights meeting I was at with Remus. It's fairly well known that I spend a lot of time on that cause. He introduced himself and told me about what he was doing for gay rights. He asked if I would be interested in helping out. Of course, I jumped at the opportunity."

"Oh, Hermione," Harry said glumly.

"It's not like he made me do anything I wouldn't have offered to do. He didn't need to date me to get me to help. I guess he thought that it would be easier to persuade me." The last words came out in a half-sob.

"Maybe he really liked you," Ron said, looking horrified that she may start crying again. "No, I'm sure he really liked you. How could he not? You're fantastic! You're smart and witty and pretty and smart."

"Ronald, you don't have to try and cheer me up."

"Bloody right I do," he said avidly. "It sounds to me like he's a wanker, but I saw how he looked at you. He thought you were the bee's knees."

"Yeah, Hermione," Harry added. "I think Ron's right. His motivations to get to us might have been conniving, but I think he wanted to date you because you're _you_!"

"That's what he said," she said quietly. "He said that he didn't date me for that reason. But I broke up with him anyway. I don't want to be with someone who started the relationship under an air of deception."

"I agree!" Ron exclaimed. "He doesn't deserve you. Not one bit. The git."

"He's a Wanker," added Harry.

"A Prat."

"A Fuckwit."

"He's troll snot!"

"Oh, honestly," Hermione sighed, but a slight smile formed on her lips. "How old are you two?"

"He wasn't that good looking anyway," Ron said matter-of-factly. Harry scowled at him. "What? I'm just saying. Hermione is too pretty for him."

Hermione giggled. "Now, don't you two get into a row."

"We're not," Ron said, scowling back but with laughter in his eyes.

"Promise me," Hermione said, glancing back and forth at both of them. "You will not let this stop you on Monday. You're going to go the Ministry and stand next to Fudge when he makes that announcement! It's too important to let troll snot like Ben ruin it for the gay community."

"Promise," Harry said unfalteringly.

"Ron? And no fighting, either. I can take care of him myself."

Ron looked reluctant to agree, but Hermione stared him down. "Promise." She lifted an eyebrow and glowered ferociously at him. "Promise. I promise," he repeated more convincingly.

* * *

By Ron's count, there were at least a hundred and fifty people crammed into a large room at the Ministry. Ron nudged Harry and pointed to the doorway. There were even more people standing out in the hall. Not only were there reporters from all over the world, but also more than two dozen Ministers from various countries. Many of the foreign speaking ones had brought translators with them.

"It's time," said an assistant to the Minister. Ron couldn't remember her name, but he remembered meeting her once when he came to visit his Dad.

Harry and Ron stood as the Cornelius Fudge entered the room from a door behind them. Ron glanced at Harry and was relieved to see that he looked calm. He knew this was a nightmare for Harry. They had stayed up late talking about it, trying to reassure each other that it was the right thing to do.

"Good morning," Fudge said, after he situated himself behind a podium that was placed on a platform a few feet from the ground.

A young man rushed over to him and whispered something in his ear. "Right." Ron heard Fudge mutter. The young man pointed his wand at Fudge's throat and said, "Sonorus."

Fudge began again, "Good. Can everyone hear me in the back?"

A mummer went through the crowd and Ron took that as a yes.

"First, I would like to thank our international visitors for joining us today. This is a momentous occasion and we are all glad that you could join us." The assistant pushed Ron and Harry forward so that they were now standing directly behind the Minister. "I will make this brief. We all have important things to attend to and I believe we have made the gay community wait long enough. I do not want to make them wait any longer."

Ron wanted to roll his eyes very badly. He looked out over the crowd and saw Hermione in the back of the room. She was standing between Archie and Willard. When she caught his eye, she waved happily.

"My staff is currently drafting the law that will allow gay couples to have the same rights and privileges that all married couples receive. I encourage you all to be back here this Friday at ten in the morning to witness this special event as I sign the law into effect."

Fudge waved Harry and Ron forward to stand next to him. "I would like to introduce Harry Potter and Ron Weasley, as if these two need an introduction." He placed a hand on each of their shoulder and Ron saw Archie laughing. "These two courageous men have brought to our attention the need to validate the relationship of same-sex couples. Both of these men fought bravely in the war that we do not like to talk about. Their love –" Ron groaned inwardly "- and bravery should be an example for us all. That is why I am offering for Harry and Ron to be the first couple I legally marry immediately after signing the law into effect."

Ron's jaw dropped. He whipped his head around at Harry, who looked as if someone had just slapped him in the face. Instinctively, Ron moved towards Harry, but the look on Harry's face unexpectedly changed. Giving Ron his _trust me_ look, Harry gently pushed him back.

Taking his place back next to Fudge, Ron looked towards Hermione. Her face was seething with rage.

Harry motioned for the same young man to charm his voice. After the spell was cast, Harry stepped forward. "Thank you, Minister. Ron and I would be honored to accept your offer. We will both be here on Friday morning."

The crowd erupted into applause followed by chaos. Reporters swarmed Ron and he had no idea what to say. He couldn't believe Harry would agree to getting married at a public event. Rita Skeeter came up to him, her quick quotes quill poised and ready. Ron snarled at her and before she could respond, he felt someone grab his robes at the neck and yank him backwards.

"Come in here," a baritone voice hissed. Ron immediately recognized it as Kingsley Shacklebolt.

Ron whirled around but no one was there, yet he could still feel the hand holding on to him. Suddenly, Ron was pushed forward straight in to a wall. He tensed up waiting for impact, but instead found himself stumbling forwards into a small room.

He turned around to look at the spot where he came in and saw a wall. "Kingsley?" he asked tentatively. The man slowly appeared as he removed an invisibility cloak.

"Sorry about the scare," Kingsley said seriously. "Door's charmed to look like a wall. I'm sure you figured that out already."

Ron ignored his apology and explanation. "Where's Harry? Who's taking care of getting him out of there?"

"Tonks. Fudge agreed to let us keep guard. He's not a complete idiot."

"Idiot?" Ron screamed. "Bastard is more like it! I can't believe he set us up like that! He knew we couldn't say no with all of those people in the room! What the fu -"

Harry came bursting through the wall before Ron could finish speaking his thoughts.

"Harry! Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm okay." Harry said, adjusting his disheveled robes.

Slipping off her cloak, Tonks piped in, "He got himself a little manhandled is all."

"Manhandled?" Ron said annoyingly.

Tonks giggled. "Sorry, bad choice of words."

Satisfied that Harry was in fact fine, Ron began to rant. "What was that all about? Why would you agree to that? Look how bad it is out there! It'll be worse on Friday. Friday! We're going to get married on Friday! What in Merlin's name were you thinking?"

"Ron, calm down. Please, trust me. I'll tell you everything, but not here." Harry turned to Kingsley. "How do we get out of here?"

"No way out, Harry," Kingsley replied. "We are just going to have to stay in here until they get everyone out of the building and we can safely get you two to the fireplaces."

"Harry, there is no way I can wait until we are out of here to know what you're thinking!"

Turning to Kingsley and Tonks, Harry said, "Excuse us." He approached Ron from the side and craned his neck up to whisper in Ron's ear. "I don't want anyone to overhear my plan."

* * *

The following week was hectic. Everyone close to Harry and Ron had been given a task to help plan the wedding. Hermione wasn't given one specific task, instead Harry had put her in charge of overseeing that everyone else had done what they were assigned to do.

By the morning of the wedding, Hermione's nerves were frazzled. She stood in the Atrium of the Ministry watching the crowd. The Minister had moved the ceremony there, so the couple could be wed in front of the Fountain of Magical Brethren. He thought it was symbolic. Hermione thought it was hypocritical. Chairs had been placed in a semi-circle around the fountain. At the last count she had received from the Minister's assistant, the invitations had extended two hundred people, mostly reporters and foreign diplomats. She glanced over at the sea of red hair in the front row, mentally taking inventory that every Weasley was accounted for. Ben, who was sitting directly behind Ginny, turned and saw her looking. He smiled and waved. Scowling, she quickly turned her head.

"Neville!" she exclaimed as she spotted her friend scanning the crowd a few meters away.

"Hi ya, Hermione," he said, extending his hand as he drew closer.

Ignoring his hand, she reached out and hugged him. "How are you?"

"Wonderful," he replied exuberantly. "This is so exciting. I'm so glad that Harry and Ron asked me to –" he looked around " – um, asked me to be a part of this."

"They knew they could count on you, Neville. Is Dean here?"

"Yes, yes. He's with Harry and Ron. I was just there, too. Harry asked me to come and get you. He said it's almost time."

"Everything is good here. I'm ready."

Hermione followed Neville through the Atrium and into a short hallway. They made small talk as they walked and Hermione was surprised at how much Neville had changed in the past few years. '_Teaching is very good for him_,' she thought.

"They're in here," Neville said as they approached a door at the end of the corridor.

Neville opened the door and the first thing Hermione saw was Harry dressed in Gryffindor deep red dress robes. Her breath hitched in her throat and tears automatically sprung to her eyes. As the door opened further, Ron, dressed in black dress robes with red trim that matched the color of Harry's robes, came into her line of vision. The tears started to flow freely from her eyes.

"You both look so handsome!" she cried.

Ron blushed the color of Harry's robes. "Thanks, Hermione," he said shyly.

"Everything okay out there?" asked Harry, gesturing to the door at the exact moment the door opened again and Willard and Archie entered.

"What are you two doing here?" asked Ron in a frantic tone. "You're supposed to be out there with Ben, keeping him busy."

"He's busy, alright," Archie said mischievously. "Busy looking for Ms. Granger." Archie winked at her and Hermione felt her ears turning pink.

"This will only take a moment," Willard said. "We wanted to wish you both luck and give you these." Willard removed a pin from his robes as Archie did the same.

"We can't take those!" Ron exclaimed.

"Of course, you can," Archie retorted, approaching Ron to attach the gold broken wands pin on his robes.

"We want you to wear these today," Willard explained. "We can't thank you enough for what you have done for us."

Willard fastened the pin on Harry's robes. Shaking Willard's hand warmly, Harry said, "We would be honored."

"It's almost time," Dean announced.

"We'll be going now," Willard said. "See you out there."

"Harry? Ron?" Hermione turned to her friends after the elderly couple left. "Are you sure, really sure that this is what you want to do?"

"Yes," They both replied in exasperated tones.

"Okay. I'm just checking," she snapped back. "Is everything you need in here?"

"It's in the cupboard," Neville replied. "Everything is in there."

"Great. We're all set," she said. "I'm going back to my position."

On her way to the door, Ron grabbed her shoulder. "Thank you," he said softly.

She smiled at him fondly and walked briskly out of the room before she started crying again.

On her way back to the Atrium, she passed Fudge's assistant on her way to get the couple. Hurriedly, she took her set in the last row of chairs. Mrs. Weasley turned to her and they exchanged smiles.

A murmur rose up from the crowed, alerting her that something was going on. She craned her neck and watched Minister Fudge standing in front of the crowd behind the same podium she had seen the prior week.

"Good morning, witches and wizards." The Minister began, his voice obviously charmed to be heard throughout the crowded Atrium. "Thank you again for joining me here today. We all know why we are here. I hold in my hand –" Fudge held up a pong piece of parchment, " - a law that in layman's terms states that a marriage between two people of the same-sex is legal in the eyes of the Ministry of Magic. Any representative of the Ministry of Magic has the authority to legally marry any couple that wishes to do so. This law also states that no prejudices will be held against anyone that enters into the sacred bond or else the person or persons that discriminate against said couple will be prosecuted as committing a crime against the Ministry." He waved his hand to where Ben was sitting. "Ben Canterbury of the Gay and Lesbian Alliance for Magical People has reviewed the law a representative of the gay community."

Ben stood and walked over to the podium. Glancing down at the paper, he nodded his head. "Yes, this is the law that I approved."

"Thank you, Ben."

The crowd applauded politely. "I would like to ask Harry Potter and Ron Weasley to come up here and stand with me, please."

Reporters stood with their cameras poised. The group made noises of delight as the handsome men approached the front of the crowd. Knowing them so well, Hermione was able to notice they both looked slightly pale and Ron was fidgeting with the sleeve of his robe. Hermione's heart pounded in her chest. '_This is it_,' she thought.

This time Harry and Ron stood together next to Fudge. Hermione saw the Minister flash them a questioning look, but when Ron reached out and held Harry's hand Fudge's face relaxed.

The Minister's assistant approached Harry and opened a blue velvet box. Harry reached inside and extracted a large quill. He handed it to Fudge who was wearing a grin from ear to ear.

Ceremoniously, Fudge held up the quill and the group became more tentative. Hermione held her breath as he bent down to sign the parchment. In a flamboyant fashion, he waved the quill in the air when he was finished. The crowd leapt to its feet and went wild with applause.

Someone levitated the podium out of the way, so Fudge could stand in front of the crowd unobstructed.

"Please, please everyone take your seats," Fudge yelled out over the crowd. "Harry Potter and Ron Weasley if you step closer please, I would like to begin the ceremony."

"Minister, I would like to s-s-say something first," Harry interrupted.

'_Good job, Harry_,' Hermione thought. '_You remembered to cast the Sonorus spell before getting up there_.'

After taking a visible deep breath, Harry addressed the crowd, "I-I would like to thank all of you for coming here today. This is a very special moment for many people. I know all of you expected to see a wedding take place today and you will. However, it will not be mine."

A few cries of shock could be heard from nearby reporters and Fudge looked as stunned as Harry and Ron had a week ago.

"Ron and I," Harry continued, raising his voice to be heard over the noise. "Ron and I," he repeated, until everyone quieted down, "for personal reasons, have decided that this is not the best time for us to be married. The Minister's offer was extremely gracious. This is a personal decision that Ron and I have made. We apologize, but find it is in our best interest to postpone our marriage."

"But you said there _will_ be a wedding!" an unknown voice shouted from the crowd.

"Yes," Harry motioned towards the front of the crowd. "I'd like to introduce Archie Alverston and Willard Brightside. Archie and Willard have been a couple for seventy-seven years." Archie and Willard stood up and moved next to Ron. "They stayed together though there was a risk of being banished from their community. This is the couple that should be the first to marry. They are the ones that took the risks and suffered through years of prejudice." Looking self-assured, Harry turned to the Minister Fudge. "Minister, at my request, will you marry Archie and Willard today?"

The look on Fudge's face was worth all of the hard work she had done in the past week. With his face a mixture of anger and horror, his eyes darted around the crowd that was grinning and clapping for Willard and Archie.

"I… er… I… Of course, I will, Harry. I agree. Seventy-seven years. My… that is a long time.

Hermione was beaming with pride. Harry had recited word for word what she prepared for him. She didn't know whether to strangle him or hug him. '_If he only knew the charisma he had,'_ she thought_. 'He could be Minister of Magic before he was thirty_!'

"Wait," Fudge said, arousing Hermione from her thoughts. "There is some paperwork we need to take care of first. I apologize," he said to the crowd. "We took care of this for Potter and Weasley earlier."

"I'm sure they don't mind waiting," Harry said, delivering a dazzling smile at the hundreds of faces staring at him. "Ron and I agreed to be their witnesses, so we took care of all that ahead of time."

The crowd sounded to be satiated for the time being. Fudge nodded, still looking like he had something sour tasting in his mouth.

Hermione tensed, watching the scene in front of her. Willard and the Minister had a brief exchange. Ron interrupted shaking his head. Archie nodded. Harry nodded. Harry's voice boomed over the crowd. "Minister, I'll go and retrieve the paperwork. It's back in Willard's bag that he left in the room where we dressed. It will be quicker if I go."

Harry made his way through the crowd. Passing by Hermione, he grinned. Hermione watched a group of redheads, closely knitted together, walking around the outside of the crowd. When they were out of her view, she sat back down and waited.

The reporters became interested in Willard and Archie and began interviewing them about their relationship and their friendship with Harry Potter. With a slight interest, she listened to the bantering around her.

Quicker than she expected she saw the raven-haired man walking up the aisle. Looking around, she saw a single head of fiery red hair moving along the crowd. With her heart pumping furiously, she moved away from the crowd and stood near one of the gilded fireplaces that adorned the walls.

The minister appearing to be satisfied with the paperwork, announced that the ceremony was about to begin. Willard and Archie, both wearing big toothy grins, took their places. Even Fudge appeared to be affected by the elderly couple's joy, a sincere smiled formed on his lips and his voice took on a soft tone when he began to speak.

Hermione scanned her eyes over the crowd. Reporters were still taking notes and snapping pictures. Even without the wedding of Harry Potter, it still made for an interesting story.

Content that everything went off with out a hitch, she took one last look at her two friends, standing silently watching the first gay couple in wizarding England pledge themselves to each other legally. Everything was exactly as it was supposed to be. Hermione chuckled softly to herself as she slipped into a nearby fireplace. If any of the reporters had been truly observant, they would have noticed that the entire Weasley family had disappeared, as well as two gold pins of broken wands.

**End of Part Five**


	6. Epilogue

**HARRY POTTER HOODWINKS MINISTER OF MAGIC – WEDS BOYFRIEND IN SECRET CERMONY**

_The Daily Prophet has obtained a copy of a marriage certificate filed at the Ministry of Magic late yesterday afternoon. The official document bearing the seal of the Ministry states that Mr. Harry James Potter and Mr. Ronald Bilius Weasley were in fact married the same day the Minister made gay marriage legal, despite their announcement otherwise. As required by Ministry law, a Ministry official performed the ceremony. Mr. Arthur Weasley, now the father-in-law of the savior of the wizarding world, signed the marriage certificate._

Daily Prophet Special Correspondent, Rita Skeeter, further researched the situation and believes that Polyjuice potion was used as a tool to trick the crowd. "No one remembers them speaking after Potter made his announcement," said American journalist Henry Smith. Mrs. Emily Murphy, editor of the Irish Gazette added, "And they hightailed it out of there as soon as the ceremony was over. Sounds like Polyjuice to me!"

Hermione Granger, best friend of the couple, gave a brief statement outside of her home last night, confirming the couple was married. "As it is a matter of public record, I will confirm that Harry and Ron are indeed married. The wedding was small and private, exactly how they wanted it."

The Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge, had no comment.

Harry folded the paper and placed it on the bed next to Ron's foot. Both naked and tangled up in the bedsheets, Harry was cradled between Ron's legs with his back resting against Ron's chest. Chuckling softly, he tilted his head back to rest it on his husband's shoulder. "Well… it's out there. At least they didn't use the photo from the Order of Merlin ceremony."

"Yep," Ron said, hugging Harry tighter to his body. "We had to do it. My Dad only had three days to file the document with the Ministry or it wouldn't have been legal."

Harry sniggered. "I'm sure that wasn't all Hermione had to say to Rita!"

"She sent a note with the paper," reminded Ron.

"Oh, forgot. Wand, please?" Ron reached under the pillow and handed Harry his wand. "Accio Hermione's note."

"Lazy prat," Ron muttered, kissing the top of Harry's head affectionately.

"Not lazy – comfortable," Harry clarified, opening the envelope.

A picture fell onto Harry's lap as he unfolded the parchment. Ron picked it up.

"Aw, Harry, this is a nice one," he said, holding the picture in front of Harry, so they could both see the photo of their first kiss as a married couple. "I don't know who cried harder – Mum or Hermione." The Hermione in the picture blew her nose and both men laughed.

"Hermione!" They both said together.

"If she hadn't planned the whole thing, we would've never gotten away with it," Harry said.

"Yeah, we should get her something special while we're here," suggested Ron.

"Definitely." 

Harry began to read the letter aloud.

_Dear Harry and Ron,_

I hope you're enjoying your honeymoon. Athens is a wonderful city. DO NOT STAY IN BED FOR TWO WEEKS!

"It's only been two days," Ron protested.

"She's right. We should get out and see the sights."

Ron leaned forward and peered out the large glass doors leading to the patio. "I can see the Acropolis just fine from here."

Rolling his eyes, but snuggling closer once Ron returned to his original position, Harry continued reading.

_Skeeter's been stalking your house. Her cronies are checking out all of the popular wizarding holiday spots. You were smart to travel Muggle style. How's that going, Ron?_

"Not funny." A blush bloomed on Ron's face.

"Its okay, Ron," Harry said, patting Ron's knee. "Those people in the bathroom probably just thought you were mentally challenged or something."

"You could've told me that Muggles had things that operate without using your hands," Ron grumbled. "I still don't understand!"

"I told you it's a sensor. It senses when your hands are there and it turns on the water." Harry giggled. "The scream probably would've gone unnoticed, but yelling, _'Look Harry, it's magic! _' was a bit embarrassing."

"Read!" Ron demanded, poking the note with his index finger.

_Hagrid refused to take the money for the Polyjuice potion. He said to consider it a wedding present. I think he paid for it in trade. He got it in Knockturn Alley, so I'm afraid to ask. I donated the galleons to the werewolf rights group. I knew you wouldn't mind and Remus really appreciated it._

Neville sends his congratulations. He was really happy to help you out. Did you know that McGonagall said he's a sure thing for head of Gryffindor house in a few years?

Don't worry about Skeeter being around your house when you are scheduled to get home. Neville gallantly agreed to let Skeeter receive an anonymous tip (snigger) that he was the one who Polyjuiced into Harry. Trying to get to him at Hogwarts will undoubtedly keep her busy for a while.

Harry put the parchment down and tilted his head to look curiously at Ron. "Gallantly?"

"Please, Harry, I'm on my honeymoon. I don't want to think about _that_!"

_Again, congratulations to you both. I love you. Enjoy your honeymoon. Take loads of pictures. See you when you get back!_

With all my love and friendship,

Hermione

Harry felt Ron nuzzling his neck. "I love you," he whispered lovingly in Harry's ear.

Tossing the note and photo on the discarded _Daily Prophet_, he replied, "I love you, too," as he placed his arms on Ron's which were circled around his waist. "You're everything that I've always wanted."

"Everything?" Ron asked shyly.

"Everything," Harry said tenderly.

"What about children? Have you… you know, ever thought about that?"

Harry smiled, remembering his conversation with his mother-in-law. "Sure," he answered, purposely keeping his answer short so that Ron would be the one to continue the conversation.

"Um, okay." Ron hesitated. "So, what did you think about it?"

"I think we probably should've talked about this _before_ we got married," Harry replied, a playful smile forming on his lips that he knew Ron couldn't see.

"Blimey, Harry, you sound like Hermione!"

"A bit."

Silence followed and Harry hoped he hadn't pushed Ron too far. Waiting, he idly twirled the gold wedding ring on Ron's finger.

"I-I've thought about it, too," Ron said finally. "And I think we would be excellent fathers."

"Me, too."

"I, uh, I talked to Ginny about it once," confessed Ron.

"You did?" Harry asked, pretending to be shocked.

"Yeah and she said if we wanted, she would have a baby for us. You know… so you could have one of your own."

"We could adopt," Harry prodded.

"Yeah," Ron said, his voice filled with apprehensive enthusiasm. "That would be nice, too."

"Did you talk to Ginny about it because _you_ want to have kids or because you thought that _I_ might want one?"

"Both," Ron replied cautiously.

"Good. Because I want to have a family with you, too."

"Not right now, of course," Ron said quickly. "We're too young. I'd like to spend time alone… just the two of us."

Squeezing Harry in apparent joy, Ron peppered Harry's bare shoulders with soft kisses.

"Yes," agreed Harry, titling his neck to expose it to Ron's mouth. "We have loads of time to decide."

With a heart that felt like it would burst from happiness, Harry finally believed for the first time in his life that what he said was true. They _did_ have loads of time – enough of it to fill up a lifetime.

**The End!**


	7. Over the Hill is Better Than Under It

**Title**: **_Over the Hill is Better Than Under It!_** This takes place in the Broken Wands universe.  
**Rating**: R – for implied sex and language  
**Warnings**: None  
**Summary**: Harry worries as Ron suffers from unexplained headaches.  
**A/N**: This is something for the _older_ folks. It's nothing great. I just had it in my head and it had to get out.

**_Over the Hill is Better Than Under It!_**

A searing, stabbing burst of pain shot from temple to temple across Ron's forehead. It caused his stomach to lurch, threatening to release its contents. The room was completely dark, and he found that if he lay completely still then the pain would subside enough for him to form a few coherent thoughts. He clung to the knowledge that relief was on its way. Harry would be home soon to take care of him for the second night in a row.

Faint footsteps finally entered the room and Ron rolled over, groaning in anguish.

"Hi," Harry whispered. "Another headache?"

Flinching as another smack of pain hit him right between his eyes, he mumbled, "Yeah."

"Did you take that potion Hermione left for you?"

"Ah-uh."

"Obviously, it didn't help," Harry observed.

"A bit."

Harry kicked off his shoes and climbed into bed. "Come here," he said, gently touching the nape of Ron's neck.

Relaxing immediately, Ron rested his head on Harry's lap. Using a delicate caress, Harry massaged the crown of Ron's head. "Does this make it worse?"

"Mmmmmm… feels nice," Ron muttered.

"This is the third headache you've had in a week," Harry said in a worried voice. "And you had two last week. I think you need to see a Healer."

"It's nothing. I feel better already." Ron leaned into the soothing fingers. Pointing to his forehead, he said, "Here, please."

Harry complied with the request, staring at his husband wearily. "If you have another one of these headaches, you're going to St. Mungo's. Whether you like it or not."

A dazed feeling started to invade Ron's brain. "I'll be fine," he said sleepily.

"Please, promise me…."

Ron tried to focus on to the sound of Harry's voice as it began to fade, but the effect of Harry's comforting hands and the potion overcame him. Finally, he drifted off to a painless sleep.

Before even opening his eyes, Harry knew the space on the bed next to him was empty. Ron's presence in bed was overwhelming, and when he wasn't there the void was startling. After nineteen years of marriage, Ron had never learned to stay on his side of the bed. There was always a leg or an arm or both resting on Harry, as well as a warmth that radiated from him and enveloped Harry in a cocoon of comfort and security. A slight feeling of loneliness always tugged at Harry's heart when his husband wasn't in bed with him.

The sounds of the shower from the bathroom lulled Harry back to sleep, until a freckled arm snaking around his chest awakened him again.

"Morning," Ron whispered softly in his ear.

"Feeling better?" Harry asked.

"I'm fine!" Ron said irritably, letting go of Harry and laying on his back.

Harry twisted around to face Ron, propping himself up on an elbow. "You may not be fine, Ron. Headaches can be the symptom of something more serious."

"Stress, Harry. That's all it is. I'm trying to find a coach to replace me and we still need a reserve Seeker. I knew being Head Coach was going to be rough. I just have to get used to it."

"You're going to a Healer. I don't want to hear another word otherwise."

"Stop sounding like my Mum!" Rolling back to his earlier position, Ron cupped Harry's cheek in his palm and traced his thumb over Harry's lips. "I don't need a Healer. I just need some Harry medicine."

Without breaking eye contact, Harry tantalizingly sucked Ron's thumb into his mouth, knowing that it would turn Ron into a very agreeable puddle of goo. Ron broke their gaze first, closing his eyes and licking his lips as the tip of Harry's tongue worked over the pad of his thumb.

Grabbing Harry's hand and placing it over the bulge in his boxers, Ron said, "I've got something else that is interested in that mouth of yours."

"Yeah?" asked Harry playfully.

"Yeah," Ron said, waggling his eyebrows.

Throwing a leg over Ron, Harry straddled his hips. "Is it your ear?" He teased, placing Ron's earlobe between his lips.

"Ah… that's really nice, but not quite what I had in mind."

"Is it your tongue?" Harry taunted, kissing his way across Ron's jaw line.

Harry's tongue penetrated Ron's lips into his welcoming mouth. Goading Ron's tongue into his own mouth, Harry sucked hungrily on it.

When he released Ron's tongue, an obviously excited Ron panted, "Not that either."

"Oh, sorry. It's early and I'm a bit confused." Harry laughed. "Maybe this is what you were looking for." He continued his tongue maneuvers on Ron's skin until he reached his nipples. Digging his fingers into Harry's back, Ron arched upward, pressing his erection into Harry's hip. Harry looked up at Ron's flushed face. "Wrong again?"

"God, Harry. What's gotten into you?"

Pushing himself up to Ron's ear, Harry whispered, "Hopefully, you in a few minutes. Is that what you want?"

"I want you to suck me first with that beautiful, perfect mouth," Ron said, burrowing his fingers in Harry's hair.

"I love you so much," Harry said passionately, nuzzling Ron's neck.

"I love you, too," Ron replied impatiently.

After a few more tricks with Ron's ear and neck, Harry said softly, "Please, go see a Healer today about your headaches."

"Blimey!" Ron yelled, bolting upright as Harry scrambled to get out of his way. "Is that what this was all about? Damn, Harry, that was really cheap."

"No - no, it's not what this was all about," Harry explained frantically. "Yes, I want you to go, but I've been worried about you too and I wanted to show you that. That's all!"

"Bollocks!" Ron said angrily, sitting up and slamming his feet on the floor. "I said I don't need a Healer. It's nothing but stress!"

"You're so damn stubborn!" Harry shouted back, shoving Ron on the shoulder. "You won't be happy unless there is something seriously wrong with you!"

Ron stood up and furiously stormed across the room.

"Where are you going? I wasn't finished discussing this!" Harry called out after him.

Ron spun back around. "I'm going to wank and get ready for work. Do you have a problem with that?"

Jumping out of bed, Harry retorted angrily, "You're acting like a child!"

Ron stomped towards the bathroom. Yelling, "Sod off," he slammed the bathroom door so hard that the mirror on the back of the door fell off and smashed on the floor.

"Great! You just gave yourself seven years bad luck… Arsehole!"

Things might not have gone perfectly, but it still went better than Harry had expected. Years of living with Ron taught Harry a few things; the most important was in order to beat a stubborn Weasley you had to _be_ a stubborn Weasley. Lucky for Harry, he became a Weasley the day they were married.

* * *

The dull ache starting behind Ron's eyes signaled him that another headache was building. Dropping the scouting report he was reading, Ron rested his elbows on his desk and started to massage his temples. Quietly, he cursed Harry under his breath. No matter how hard he tried, his own fingers didn't feel as marvelous as Harry's did.

Closing his eyes, he pictured himself lying in Harry's lap while Harry's fingers caressed his skull. He surprised himself at how vividly his imagination was working. He was so drawn into the scene that he thought he could actually hear Harry's voice.

"Ron, are you okay?"

Startled from his thoughts, Ron looked up at Harry standing in front of his desk. "Harry! I-I was just relaxing."

"Uh-huh."

"What are you doing here?"

"I came to apologize," Harry explained. "I was a right prat this morning."

"Really?" Ron asked skeptically.

"Yes," Harry replied, walking around to the other side of the desk. "I thought I'd take you to lunch." Gently, he rubbed Ron's shoulders. "You look like you could use a break."

Ron considered holding on to his anger, but the throbbing in his head wore down his reserve. "I could. Horrible, that's what these scouting reports are. The scouts' handwriting is worse than the twins!"

"Great!" Harry said cheerfully, standing back so Ron could get up from his seat.

"This is really a surprise," Ron said, rising from his seat. "I thought you would be angry all day."

"That's how you are, Ron. Not me." Harry chuckled, linking his arm with Ron's. Gazing at Ron's face, he added, "I'm really sorry. It's for your own good."

"It's okay. No need to beg my forgiveness," joked Ron, placing his hand on Harry's that was resting on his forearm.

Ron heard Harry say, "I'm not talking about this morning," a mere second before everything went black and the familiar sensation of Apparition overtook him.

* * *

Harry braced himself for Ron's wrath.

"What the… " Ron yelled, looking around the small waiting room. "Where are we?"

"Healer Pye's office," Harry answered calmly. "Hermione recommended him."

"I don't fucking believe you did this!" shouted Ron his eyes wide and glowing with fury. "I told you that I didn't want to see a Healer! Fuck!"

"I'm sorry!" Harry said indignantly. "But you weren't going to listen to reason, so I had to resort to using force."

"You can't make me see a Healer if I don't want to!" Ron shouted, scrunching his face in pain.

"Don't make me stun you!" Harry threatened, taking his wand out of his pocket. "You have another headache – don't lie!"

"This was worse than what you did this morning," Ron hissed, turning around in the room obviously looking for a way out. Spotting a door, Ron took on a look of triumph and headed straight for it. "I'll see you at home tonight!"

As Ron put his hand on the doorknob, the door sprung open. Healer Pye stepped into the room. "Ah, you must be –" he began, extending a hand to Ron.

"Leaving!" Ron interrupted, sliding sideways past the Healer through the door.

"It'll take him a minute to realize he's exactly where we want him," quipped Healer Pye. "Relax, Mr. Potter –"

"Harry."

The Healer nodded. "Harry. Make yourself comfortable. We won't be long."

The door shut quietly behind Healer Pye as Harry collapsed in a nearby chair. He waited to hear Ron's boisterous shouts, but none came, leading Harry to believe either there was a silencing charm on the room or Ron had been stunned into submission.

A few minutes after Ron had entered the room, the main door leading to the hallway reappeared. Hermione had helped Harry set the trap. They both knew Ron would be furious, but Harry didn't care if Ron didn't speak to him for a month. It was better than being concerned all the time that something was seriously wrong and Ron wasn't getting any medical attention for it.

With his stomach twisted into a painful knot, Harry flipped through magazines that were failing miserably at distracting him from worrying. He kept nervously looking up at the door, waiting for either Ron or the Healer to come out and give him an update. Unable to sit still, Harry stood up and began to pace the room, wishing he had taken Hermione up on her offer to sit with him while he waited.

After what seemed hours, but according to the clock on the wall had only been twenty minutes, the door opened and a female nurse, who Harry had never seen before, asked him to step into the other room.

"Healer Pye has finished the examination," she informed Harry as she led him down a narrow hallway. "Unfortunately, he had to leave for an emergency in another wing. Your husband can update you on his prognosis." Stopping, she pointed towards a closed door. "Mr. Weasley is in there."

"Thank you," Harry said hurriedly, opening the door to reveal Ron sitting on an examination table with his face in his hands.

Panic set in as Harry's heart felt like it dropped to the floor. Holding the door open, he stood in the doorway, paralyzed with fear. Ron raised his head. Carelessly, Ron brushed the fringe from his eyes and Harry's chest swelled as he swallowed a sob.

"Harry, it's horrible," Ron said, running his fingers through his hair. Shaking his head in disbelief, he continued, "I'm only 40. I can't believe this. I never expected it. Not this young."

"Oh, Ron," Harry said despondently, moving to sit at his husband's side. Rubbing Ron's shoulders, he tried to comfort him while fighting back his own terror. "It'll be okay. We'll get through this together."

Ron groaned, burying his face in his palms again. "The twins will take the piss out of me for sure," he mumbled.

Harry looked at him quizzically, wondering if he heard right. "Fred and George can be prats, but I don't think even they would make fun of something as serious as this!"

Ron looked up lovingly at Harry. "Thanks, Harry. I was worried you wouldn't understand and think that I was being silly, since you've worn them practically your whole life."

"What – What are you talking about?" Harry asked mystified.

"How ridiculous I'm going to look in glasses. Why? What did you think I was talking about?"

"Gla-glasses! What do you mean glasses?"

"Didn't the nurse tell you? I've been getting the headaches from eyestrain. I need glasses to read." Dejectedly he added, "It's what happens when you get _old_!"

Relief rushed over Harry, following right behind it was anger. He didn't know whether to hug Ron or strangle him.

"OW!" Ron screeched as Harry violently pinched his upper arm. "What was that for?" He asked, rubbing his arm while looking curiously at Harry.

"No! The nurse did not tell me! She said you were going to tell me. I thought something was seriously wrong." Harry knew he sounded whiny, but he didn't care. He'd been fretting over Ron for two weeks; he thought he deserved a little attention now.

Wrapping his arms around Harry's neck, Ron sincerely said, "Oh, Harry, I'm so sorry."

"No you're not. Acted like a big baby. Then I had to trick you into coming here. You didn't care that I was worried sick about you!"

"I do care!" Ron exclaimed. Keeping his stiff body language intact, Harry turned his head, ignoring Ron's apology. Ron jumped off the table. Prying Harry's knees apart, he stepped in between them. "Of course, I care," he repeated softly. "I wasn't thinking how it might affect you." Pressing gentle lips to Harry's forehead, Ron continued to murmur that he was sorry until Harry relented and wrapped his arms around Ron's waist.

Harry tipped his head against Ron's shoulder. "Fucking arsehole."

"Yes and you love me anyway."

"Yes – Yes, I do," Harry said tenderly, closing his eyes to hold back the tears of relief that were welling up in his eyes.

"And you're not angry anymore?"

"No. I'm just relieved that you're okay."

"Good," Ron said, patting Harry on the knees. "Because you have to help me pick out a pair of glasses that won't make me look like a speccy git."

"Er, excuse me," Harry said, pushing his glasses higher up the bridge of his nose.

Ron waved his hand in the air. "You're different. You're gorgeous. You can wear glasses and not look silly."

Harry let out a heavy sigh. For over two decades, he had tried to convince Ron that he was handsome and sexy, but Ron's insecurities still got the best of him at times like these.

Jumping down from the table, Harry grabbed Ron's hand. "Let's go pick you out a pair of glasses."

* * *

As Harry finished putting on his pajama bottoms and a t-shirt, Ron caught his eye in the mirror hanging on the wardrobe door. Clad in only a pair of boxers, Ron was sitting up in bed, reading. Sighing, Harry walked over to Ron's bed stand and extracted a pair of brown metal glasses from the drawer.

Holding them in his palm under Ron's nose, he asked, "Forget about these?"

"No," Ron whined. "How am I supposed to lure you into shagging me with those things on?" He quietly mumbled, "Look like an old man."

Harry sat on the edge of the bed. "Put them on!" he said forcefully.

Reluctantly, Ron slipped them on, but kept his head lowered.

"Look at me," Harry said, hooking a finger under Ron's chin, gently prodding it upwards. "I think you look distinguished and very, very shaggable."

"You're just saying that because you love me!" argued Ron.

"Maybe… I don't know if I would say it if I didn't because I do. I loved you for so long that I don't remember what it was like before I did. Anyway, it shouldn't matter what anyone else thinks – right?"

"Right," Ron said with a half smile.

Harry climbed over Ron to his side of the bed. "Isn't it better without all of those headaches?"

Ron shrugged.

"Ron, you can't be serious! You'd rather have those horrible migraines then wear a pair of stupid glasses?"

"It's not the headaches that I miss," Ron said, resting his head in Harry's lap and looking up at him with great big puppy-dog eyes. "I really miss the scalp massages."

Pretending that he was resentfully giving in to Ron's request, Harry began to caress Ron's head.

Ron's fingers gently traced a pattern along Harry's inner-thigh, causing Harry's heart to race faster.

"You may be old enough for reading glasses, but your libido has certainly not decreased," Harry announced light-heartedly.

"Thank god for that!" Ron said empathically. "And I still have my hair, unlike some people… namely Fred and George!"

Biting his bottom lip, Harry stared at the patch of scalp peaking through the crown of Ron's head. He had been watching the circle grow slightly wider over time. Secretly, he had enjoyed the massages as much as Ron did. It had given him time to enjoy running his fingers through Ron's beautiful, fiery red hair, knowing that someday – sooner rather than later - it would be gone.

Not that any of it mattered. In those few seconds when Harry had feared that he might be losing Ron, Harry thought he would die right along with him. It wasn't Ron's hair or his face or his body that had made Harry fall in love with him, marry him, and grow old with him. It was Ron's heart and soul that Harry wanted - the rest was just an ever-changing package. And with each change, every new gray hair or hair that was washed down the drain, Harry was reminded how lucky they both were to be alive and together - even if Ron was going to grow old kicking and screaming the entire way.

Harry wrapped a strand of Ron's hair around his index finger. "Yes, Ron," Harry said, feeding Ron's delusion. "Yes, you do."

**_Fin_**


	8. Two Princes Cookie

**Title**: **Two Princes**  
**Characters and/or Pairing(s) **: Harry/Ron  
**Summary/Warnings**: Harry believes in real life fairytales.  
**Disclaimer**: All Harry Potter characters belong to JKR. I make no money. JKR has it all.  
**A/N**: This was a drabble the drawble challenge for the LJ community toilntrouble. The picture was a pumpkin.

This is a cookie for the Broken Wands Universe. To those that have asked… yes, there will be children!

**Two Princes**

"… and they lived happily ever after." Harry closed the book and smiled at the sleeping child in the bed next to him.

Carefully, he kissed her gently on the forehead before heading to his bedroom where Ron was waiting up for him.

"How long did she last?" Ron asked as Harry joined him in bed.

"Not long."

"Why'd you keep reading?"

"'Cause I knew you were listening."

Ron didn't bother protesting. "I liked when the Fairy Godmother transfigured the pumpkin into a coach and the mice into horses."

"I knew you would," Harry said as Ron spooned up against him. "Want to know my favorite part?"

"Sure."

"Prince Charming."

"Have a crush on Prince Charming, huh?"

"No. I'm in _love_ with _my_ Prince Charming."

"Nah. I'm no prince. You're the savior."

"You saved me, Ron, in ways that I can't explain."

"You saved me too," Ron whispered.

After a few moments of comfortable silence, Ron asked, "What story are you going to tell tomorrow?"

"The story of two princes that met on a train, saved each other, fell in love and lived happily ever after."

Ron hugged Harry harder. "That's a real good one, Harry. Rose will love it."

**Fin**


End file.
